Wednesday, 17 April 2019


I smell like a cupboard
 because I actually live in one, 
   and decadent anarchy
          says I am crashing on 
patience of the London
 Living situation 
            borne out so how can you live 
          on a lathe well lined glen
         opens out onto 
the longest pay
               squeeze in 200 years
    which is when 'working people
deteriorated in every
           street corner but still
saying make total destroy 
           around the now chrome
    balustrade fronted the
      traffic and environmental zone 
           chicanes are both good and bad
 because a blockade keg is
a still from the viewpoint 
of irony a Brexit horizon,
so just redeem a friend
or call a enemy to bring 
all the neighbourhoods furniture
to sit and look at a
     wall of oil drums 
    by local art-demolishionists 
     by which I mean on the other side 
on the great white wall 
 the art piece Pink Floyd son 
cenotaph the world
     is largely a place of
sunny uplands and he (Charlie Gilmour) is 
in a good place now 
             a vast six-story stucco mansion,
 a rambling farmhouse in 
Sussex countryside and a 
mews house in London is 
the bare minimum of aspiring practice 
resilience to the political turmoil 
so if the doors of your sanctuary
crumble by themselves you 
deserve it you simply do,
 and don't ask question en plein 
    air in the fanned horn of 
benches with armrests 
and the crime of public
urination steaming flint cone 
to deal with the enemy
 risk injuring yr genitals 
as the city amps me to
  live in the paving 
crack see pessimism works
 just look up to the 
new urban environments
to avoid the dirt
         in bourgeois intercourse
but what if nobody has a 
doorstep  does that
     change this little heap as
 my thing, as in 'they' from me and
so on the dirty laundry
    I wear ramparts 
      is mine mine
    to tend to all day and all night
  again all the rest is yours no affair of
       the 1% even experience
relative disadvantage and 
      pterygium looks like the
       anal pour is your iris
the beautiful does not smell
and the tolerance for certain
odours requires a kitchen as
a backdrop simply
      disappearing again
in the appearance of a person
I am in love with, the sound
of a spoon striking a bowl of
 the poor void
          from dust and online
mobs aren't really that
powerful are they?
   there is no perma-death
in this game is there? 

Friday, 12 April 2019


bridled waters 
over budget practice 
yr nulled before the 
front gate is lined 
with your loved ones in 
thorn paw in glare 
you see photographs of 
   overtime as placeholders 
of the life you need to keep


the violent garden aches 
   the lapel time squadron 
of your poor shift calculus 
elevated steeply in the 
sky you can't protect off yourself 
online recruitment software 
running off the palliative 
insurgent feeling of stowed up 
timesheet starres leave 
in a domestic scenario 
end your lunch

the dart board is fucked 

Sunday, 7 April 2019

(1) a preoccupation with themes of socio-economic resentment; (2) a ‘levelling’ use of catalogues and lists; (3) an excessive, often blasphemous wordplay; (4) a tendency to blend and thus level incongruous genres; (5) a justi cation of symbolic transgression, especially in the context of lay preach- ing, as prophetic behaviour; and (6) imagery of self forti cation against per- secution and martyrdom (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

      Checkproof allocation spent on grassy 
knolls as the bridge deck
   vervain ablates common
out in sun lease moot objective 
as new heart of live acoustic cordon, 
 how the Greek Amphitheatres 
     are still in use today 
it will have firm edges, it
will be a quadrilateral 
and they will contain large 
amounts of people 
uncharged at the planned loss
on both sides of the
procurement process 
they should build it in Hull,
  the chide turret of bastard 
feudalism is recruiting gentry 
    into rite affinities justice in as geography 
               of bobs yr eligible clamp the poor door 
of rent glittering daylong 
nightlong prism all
windows spoils air nicely 
         to blat the School Yard and Chapel Steps 
   hang off Stick-ups 
      birching on the flog day your 
 clue fetch stick 
             regales stiff dramaturgy in sink frisk 
cuffed to bone urbanists
 stocking garden door closes 
tipped in skin triode cultivated leafy glade  
   scarp did wild glade pioneered 
horribly as they should  always have 
done lips & tongues say I don't want choice 
I just want nicer things Palmolive in streets
tinter brides into sight out harms 
and admitting only that which does good, 
the form-order of the mistress
  to the house of drunken 
mosquitoes adores female clothing 
  the royal mast head weds use 
   of a kipper and comrade government 
   chaste aspire out the social Borax  
    'Where are the papers?'
       the spent gantry of her bodice 
franchise decorated 
with a peacock feather 
   as immobile mitt caresses a birch with a
   appreciation of anatomy platform from 
sufferings at the swishing block
        'But what am I to be punished for?'
needless to say, the electrical 
spanking machine is of American 
origin in and out of hearing the end 
of customary discipline  like the laboratory rat 
doomed to inexorable itinerary 
in its cage you feel  celebrated gift 
   in painted aluminium
anodised aluminium, Plexiglas, wood 
Layered impasse screen wall plate 
 double mounted wall rail
powder-coated aluminium 
20 elements each 200cm x 15cm x 3cm
and signage for a
       35 foot floor social centre
as incomplete transitive relations of 
   post-utopian community
instruction text the vendors hate speech
at a certain distance from the heart the street 
existing ceiling brushed and etched  
prototype sound system  is a living 
symbol in our minds
           and it whips the confirmation class a romance of 
Schoolboy England and
the humour of the suppressed 
as livre de chevet 

Saturday, 16 March 2019


the practical limits of a 
     working household is protective
it adjusts so no one can 
eat on their little 
knees luminous in 
count  semblance of 
durable contest is 
the parable of everyone 
and some of the
    worst idlers in Britain 

No Human Is Illegal (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

And shivered company 
alleges weakly the 
enemy lines which 
   have invaded my 
  tight feeble male 
arse deprived smile and left 
shored and lumbered 
out where a crowd forms and begin
  fog horn to full
garnet flung shots so for
        this bastion gate
 this meringue paste
simpered about the 
body within same crowd 
on a sick milligram breeze 
at Spithead the blood 
sport is in good prospect
my father ablates all 
and tenderness of an 
    opposite heart marker, 
the stand of which is
equivalence as measure 
of sentiment in symbol 
and I give it up on all the 
best 10 asses its name 
glead the light through 
stained glass ruby gold 
on the mezzanine of a 
church the radial sticks 
in could up price 
    prick suddenly falls up on a 
    decoy sacrifice 
in reply is how much is 
physically necessary 
every morning, that is 
how much is physically 
allocated is a
 meaning etiquette 
1st, 2nd, 3rd and
 4th rossette prime 

the  whole-body he said 


of the air 
across copper (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

 is a courtesy open country   price that 
 puritan to moral exits in foul shrubbery
    I, the  plaintive skiver laid down
the sentiment cliffs curving
 as if by the soft drift
betwixt minimum of  stopped age 
    falls and   promise is your responsibility to 
        ensure when do I quit?  
       liz truss  warm, again 
                    I need to know 
  when do I quit? liz truss  
      it hurts the Generation Z
       aspiring  to    become doctors 
         or businessmen with your blood 
bash the casement meant 
   in dole times           the spat of gout 
     nils risk-taking in Britannia
       panic is sleep grouted 
over time  as everyone who is declared 
to work calms  
        the front-line recession of hand
embroidered tea-towels 
grubbing down on brightly
         renovated furniture 
sits the shiny topper in mint crisp the 
snags of daily bread 
docket and bannered narrows
the fields where no word men scatter 
in the basket of livery 
            the pole-hook catches
     hot shard brightly over
 blind insurgency with the smart 
polished floor prone on glee 
lucent everlasting molfted balances
submit coated values at notice
  there calibrated into a large
     circular room is the
    enzymatic breakdown 
with the release of antigens out a pulp 
chamber alleges like this one
  in pure hops as a counter
 weight given in the latent 
 naval for will through effusive 
holy wallet sip under the topsoil 
 foot a life from the glass 
glide house we watch in
 the reprieve of  self-test this
 its unfitting dominion of
  hate that peculiar combination
 of affects seem to structure 
the experience of life as 
the back of back of shirkers 
i chase down with a mouth 
full of passwords change
 periodically my repelled
 endocrine at the bottom 
 of the report card