On the subject of 2017

#buildthewall »

B.H. Fraser

April 26th, 2017.

Filed under 2017,Poems



Hey, Amigo. Yes, Gringo.

You and I we travel in tunnels.

They say this stuff makes you invincible.

So both of us in shadow –

   the brain controlling sums alien.

These sums measure the smallest tremble.

Amigo, I notice your hand upon something personal.

And after we are done, I forgot to mention

   we’ll be waiting,

Escobar, Jesus is coming.


   But, Gringo, you said, the facts.

Yes, but Pablo or is it Manuel ?

   All you do is change the channel,

      and never pay your tax.

Amazing Grace, you made me invincible, strong and rich.

Making a grab,

I got my legs to play with my breasts.

   and my hands to give birth to my face.

The world’s strongest and richest speaks:

Escobar, Jesus is coming.


   So show respect.

Assist me, assist The Magnificent.

I am invincible on ground unlimited.

   And sit in tower with cup between industry and dust

      organiser of the money shot.

In each face

      where once were words now is humming.

‘He is?’ ‘Tell me he is.’ ‘He is:

      “es nuestro amigo”’

We told you before, Escobar, Jesus is coming.


Gringo, this wall you said,

   Amigo it is likely to account for many dead

     but who cares / what the heck.

We have this tunnel of ours: to enter together.

and lie there flat wanting,

   the sweat of coke, the sweat of ambrosia.

It could be quite a party but you cannot live to see it.

Pablo, I hope you vote for me.

   Another time they’ll say,

     Escobar for President.