Groundscraper HQ
I am
K R I E G
lockstepped
on rainwater irrigation system
disordered a habitat for bats and birds
and now fallen through
the future hybridisation of work
is, 0's – ticked through air morgues
mutter in synthetic turf
of Teletubbyland,
creaking starred out
tiara on
the head of this fabulous city,
is a wellness centre
murmuring straits over cut
grow concrete
and the topping out ceremony
finishes silicon roundabouts
masticed retreat in verdant solution
a crying dreadnought
something like xenophobia
gently slowing the body
into a rut
as a slurry of mud water comes over
the civic-minded metropolitan landscrap
curls then pulls away
passes through my heart!
and disappears from the skies
root to HQ Mountain View
for a future data centre, even closer
to sunlight that was never built
the poles, dug from hills
there is no fog
in Therapeutic eurythmy
inwardly
if I was you, I would not smile
at present situations
for I
K R I E G terms and conditions
is a red triangle which are ills upon you
and to feeling unsafe
ARGENT held tight despite
old inward chuckling
at present situations
even HMPS
soap carved out a shiv
is Baron Blunkett, PC among other faces
and bright over glass breaks light
and the corners become shallow
and the face is a future data centre
as its needle wire clanks
of jewels, pearlescent
of heavenly bodies, and the moon
of metal, silvered I am
K R I E G reversed with life
in flora I frequent my line of interest
there are countless tales of people
merely wishing to take photographs
being hassled by uniformed goons
in ostensible public space, hangon
drop to floor the terms and conditions are
again headbangers solidifying into architecture
under rainbowed statistics
that devour smoke-plumed servers;
fads hung on cloves by crook
bridled tubing; my heart
and the sleek fling of planks deserts
the sickly, privatisation nap-pods
frozen inside the past,
but now we
the young and strong optimisers
pitilessly remark
your broken bodies!
into heads: the jubilee of seeing them
crouched doglike in the atrium
Light up your headboards!
Erect on the sun the vein of worry, pasturise
once again we hurt the timeserver
a millennial glove bleaches white
as strong and sane,
acceleration no handbrakes
and there, once there
in the sickroom lamplight
through glen perishing eyelashes
I
K R I E G liquid soap
services of exposed breathe
key change to hide
amongst viaducts
as the only sense of freedom
in pause areas
the trim trail gets actionable
and forfeits glass fabrics alfresco
in defiance to the stars