Mum Says (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

O' crown in the belly

from morning till four 

in the afternoon travel 

starred in axe out the 

royal line coin the bottleneck

stolen a load of Imodium 

believed in sportswear because

they can’t afford it but will 

survive the idea of cuts supposedly

around professional news footage 

with the closing of nobody will ever
hurt let alone from real life, 
because embittered rosette 

does not go back to blood

count over the hydroponic mud

for maudlin the unknown

where mosquito disperses your 

heart rhymes O' crown in the belly

means you never miss a meal.

O' crown in the belly
means you never miss a meal

in the household panic exists 

like a weather resistant text-to-speech

receipt written once runs everywhere,

our nature as doublet 

by number to comfort in milk thistle 

payless rule burns with autolysis, 

and varnishes what comes out 

the mixing bowl oddly cropped 

is scarcity put through the mill

O' crown in the belly
means you never miss a meal

to the great night when their 

beautiful phrases will be drowned 

out by death scream in riots!

In Surrey (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

O’croak but today they are

no longer interchangeable 

your family's average life expectancy, 

most common occupation

denigrates in your hands you look out

a window somewhere passable 

the kiss on the adjacent cheek 

is now inadmissible but today 

they are no longer and a window 

is passable as the cheapest option

and you walk out of your premises 

up to the local ghostly vandalism you 

cease to address this situation 

you have been doing the destitute 

work unpaid enter the premises 

you’re shoes are vertigos unlooping 

you magnify under starlings 

count the lower ground floor 

as destitute the sun doesn’t 

and the remaining real estate 

want to be law enforcement 

Mr.Catchpole Very Angry this Monday (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

All together joined into one 

mattress will monitor

your nightmares your fridge 
will beep for more cheese 

of the Mount Everest kind

made of reindeer milk 
and then stored for years 

under the beds of Norwegian

farm folk communing for the 
cheapest electricity or

gushers of cash get to see 

the extenuating circumstances

at minimal cost tiny pink eyed

your fridge remember

will beep for more cheese

and your electric car will take orders

unbeknownst to you click by click, 

saving on the doorstep 

decayed in the back of

your mouth leaf by leaf 

two hands protect glowing 
white stainless hunting equipage 
your balance remember the lower branded  
Colonel Boyd Genghis John Master Comrade

the ghettoised object overwhelmed 

one more face in THAT crowd 

all joined together 
in the ether filtrate the precise 
genetic makeup in an environment 
where the rights or title

are just error-correct missives 

but management are in

a combat theater platform 
and what you see is the work that 

will be available after
such as counting cars, individuals 
or thinned air shaped in the highest 
priority or the lowest conscience beset 

every prescient mildew on praxis, 
you pay me remember I lose 

much more frequently on the 

other hand the floor ceremony how 

to make a living cuttle or cease

Dear, Dearest (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

Nobody believed it, and the dancing resumed (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

This holiday of universal equality 

clattered like a coin and rolled 

through the crowd and nobody 

believed it-dancing resumed

like a hoarse siren bearing

the pure and impure division where 

walls are prisons to company carrying death 

put the interest of the nation first get

to courting it doesn’t matter no body lives 

in Hampstead anyway, the local hospital

prefecture appeared calmly tranquil 

in barricade tape you now feel the 

strategy verbatim is a kiss that would

carry death over the abandoned streets and

further like a wide mandatory forecast angel

the general absence of envy of the present 

in relation to the future we trouble ourselves with.

Your hamstrings shrink, your hands cringe

over crock you fall apart repeatedly-

at least you're armed

with two knuckle dusters, 

a cricket bat and spam before warm days

any SHTF situation explodes onto the streets

this is known and contamination 

is the darkest rhombus under this

floral boarder of the garden

the army built a large mud oven 

to cook the biggest Lord Woolton pie 

ever which will be evenly distributed 

throughout the respective messes and 

eaten before the Ark, all new members 

will have to give up their birthright 

by removing the welcome mat

for the foreseeable 

future bodies end the story now

is in need to shoot the birds 

out of the sky as contactless effete 

remits to downed rhythm thank air

again in some sheltered silent fluid they

hope all will return in breathless 

wait its precious but tasteless seed

we will eat again this great package  

By God's precious soul, I mean no evil, and I will not leave it! (DRAFT)

The police commissioner of each quarter

has been delegated the bearer of their 

respective community refuse bin 

packed with food and set on fire,
'i am going to be scientific'

on the balcony but first a sharp 
breath that leads to the cuffs
stay there and they will eventually 

suppurate and master the passiveness
and paralysis it entails as all can eat
in the days to come

sick in the box warren of hecatombs,

of UK tissue industry for my country
I lay to be carted off to 

the potters field for decayed old buildings 

to be met in front of my according brazier 

here to anticipate the police

testing the edge of the estuary- 

trap bath split the lodge in mind

with a fellow voyager in kind

Appointments had been Tainted (DRAFT LETTER)

Dearest Joanna, 

Your warmest wishes are greatly appreciated and valued, all coming from a national treasure; a consort of fair ideals and beauty. Grown local! Naysayers will be pooh-poohed. I have pictures already of building a flower-filled crossing from London’s South Bank to the Temple.

And it would be built quickly, so as not to get in the way of the Thames Tideway tunnel, the giant sewer being constructed in the river. A gift to the people of London filled with trees as well as shrubs and wildflowers. Winding paths will snake around woodland copses and glades. It would be a floating paradise, the tiara on the head of our fabulous city. A wonderful environment for a crafty cigarette or a romantic assignation, I must say. 

I love Thomas and what’s he’s doing with London currently, something truly ingenious. We must stand strong on our principles, I can almost smell the garden bridge ringed with demented enemies who do not want to see something beautiful established in the heart of London. Up with the Ponte Giardino and down with our enemies! Beauty and practicality in equal measure! And we will become champions of the concept and once implemented, it will last long into the future. I am sure the GLA and TFL will back the project, this is MOST certain!!! A great city must not rest on its laurels!

Now with the Olympics behind us, we have real vigour to carry on in the same fashion. There is a real obvious a transport NEED with commuters filing like the hoards over Waterloo like TS Eliot. London demands this beatific resolution, to rival the high-line of NYC and elsewhere!

I say YES and I look forward to this great project taking flight!

Ever Yours, Boris

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