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Friday, 5 March 2021

GRANNY M DECADE DEAD (draft)




Ogham no escutcheon

Rome ruled the skyline

refracted in a bough of drink 

cassock under dominion 

awaiting knight’s armour'd sac 

swooning sideline of red faces 

untouched heart of moss 

lichen starch & mock Tudor coda

very little Celtic blood left over

in this appanage of carraigĂ­n 

urine inside the Rose. 


Planter and the Gael suppose

I am your heart-to-heart pricked on

like a Pinhead in the wasteland 

sent pall and spoiling back for a fight 

laying in their wool milk for hours 

God and my Right cruciform on damp sand

sold outside church gates 

commemorative not symbolic

more magnificence brought low, 

and that’s why I used Ripolin!

to yr murder before Gods

sectarianism over an open fire 

all blood passes under guardianship 

langued ramrod to your peace 

lined home or rule rubble barricade

worthy of being held in its signal of kindling flame 

or shot in the face? 

O bending verge God is my right 

to stick on a Lilly and blow a 10 foot 

hole in London Stock Exchange. 


Today the British spirit surges 

10-points in share prices

all painted bucklers and plumy chests 

porpoise oil the trading floor traffic 

& environmental zone bolts 

the door inn powerhouse spoils the upper vest 

raining masonry and glass on Iveco Ford Cargo 

to the table heavy with song 

O the venerable 

pale bent memorial shape 

of natural need, hunger can be gelignite 

or 'in disgust and its opposite 

is reflected the whole of history’.

 

To surcoat of white silk mantle lined with red

thats yr appanage handful of little rock

to their coronet of pectins water stock 

spite handshakes & incurable claps 

within a lumen scratched on off

mucosa or vomiting in the Roman Fashion

bursting something like in your chest imagine 

resisting an ulcer of scarlet 

livery to rend tomorrow breaks

in via the garden fence

I am 12 years old. I am Dead (Draft)


We can fairly aver that a reduction of wages in the woollen manufacture would be a national blessing and advantage, and no real injury to the poor.

By this means we might keep our trade, uphold our rents,

and reform the people into the bargain.


J.Smith: Memoirs of Wool. 1747 II


 “We will do everything, work with anyone, overcome every obstacle in our path to jobs and prosperity.”


I Have Always Worked Hard. 


doglegged and handed an (e.g. human) warmth 

eat them on form-filling on 

           drill bits have you tried 

streamlining 

ten practical measures all to be taken

swiftly



O workplace 

O my private light? not applicable 

I seek death or reasonable 

(e.g. human) warmth 

problem.  clanks.    in I am red in the face and its  

sold at augury for chase,

 while the destiny of you 

goes regrettably faint, 

was that Sit-down Peter yes

sit down  (e.g. human) warmth 

in 2008 

I was 12 years old 

inside a bin outside Lloyd’s bank 

a disbursement of omens– who broke stratagem –

who broke in 2008 

(a) strategy dead 

(a.ii) disarmament of ombudsman's

    across the land 

the plight of the unemployed, 

who desperately want a foot 

on neck firm makes sense,

observe the rules

canard into stockbroker drowned 

beneath me  an invisible toll, 


a great foil for pseudo-ironic wharfs 

pointed in Canary pleading 

with repository

with a briquette

of debating champagne

a disappearance of oligarchy.

 

The houseboy theme philistine competition; 

a billion at Lloyd’s. 

sticked in bits fell off or down or since 

and the hankering stops

I can think of worse ohms 

to beautify under moonlight 

Put another way,

abolished absolved 

to me belayed this ladder inside

securely chain mailed

honeycombed clap the rent sector will no one rid me?

for vespers 

bitten in tough torment 

bread-binned doglegged and handed 

(e.g. human) warmth again 

scandalmonger of

knees and elbows.


The Chartered Institute for Personnel & Development believes in nothing and hates everything



on a wrecked request 

officer knows no bounds, you know me

I ought to know or have known but as my last

sick balance emits 

O i’ve tried drill bits 

that wrecked  inside close to skin

I asked for forgiveness but 

will it be given?


ban thyself in 

fuck myself in this weir.

Venice of drains

not a single grain 

of rice left over anti-jobs

indices spring out under the whole 

data, personal, emotional

irrational pellet

MD MSc MRCS MFOM

There Is No Alternative 

as waste bins are caged and padlocked

food dies away from seeing 


  O, bloodworm. Surround. people

hope is better [*See also: aspiration]  

SICKLED proboscis itch

light scraped falls down in abysmal score-print

Gives The Green LIGHT. 


contained within yr contract, is section 13.5.      

reduce the burden  

going forward I dictate the bean counter the most vulnerable s(e)c(t)ion 

my existing pegged

 clanks.    

angled inside or tacked on

to interfere with private light?

I seek death & reasonable adjustments to my workplace 

immediately 

on farce o god 

o go o do o god o o o god o in

my competences are billfold.  

fuck

paranoid after it was revealed 

I am red 

in the face and its       

“understandably puffed anger” 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

headlights in a ditch body clamps tight

-ENDS-

chamfered at the bit

  exploiter scarf, 

my sick balance too sweet for charter  

of (e.g. human) warmth 

you should be treated like a metastasising tumult 

and excised from the UK body politic. 


Clamps 

The burden of employment regulation in the UK has swollen six times over the last 30 years.

hangs onto

numbers my clanks.    

 fuck off

duffer.  I am red in the face and its  

a known 2008 carnation. 

spit in gale of what might have been 

and what has been 

Abolish the Agency Workers Regulations 2010.

Abolish the Working Time Regulations 1998.

or to be cruel, I. I Have Always Worked Hard 

rose-leaves  don't want to speak to me 

it is their right clearing every obstacle to growth 

my tongue on ballcock itch prosperity

teeth sworn in brokers of dominium  

I am there holed in solarium 

you should be treated like 

clamps in factotum mock the augur 

how  cloudbursts have been 

and what has been new 

an invisible toll, 

guillotines for gala segments  

I do not know. 

                             Other echoes 

murderess, v-necklace in wraith speculation

  anti-fends and nattering hole stricken 



Margaret Thatcher’s graft.           No.

Margaret Thatcher’s gramophone .           No. 

Margaret Thatcher’s grace.           No.  


three yobs in Margaret Thatcher’s grain. sunk

a knuckle in 2008 undated

for 36 yobbos of (e.g. human) warmth burnt

for the most dedicated fathom,  imagine 

 – who broke the stratagem – disclosed the most ridiculous rungs that enabled em’

here was marked with gold 

of what many might consider

actual blood observe the rules. 

the chieftain callus 

in 2008 

I was 12 years old 

Dead.

 


Wednesday, 3 March 2021

Parliament House or Dung Market, 2021 (Cole Denyer & Max Fletcher)

 


380cmx160cm 

Oil on Expensive European Fabric 

Thursday, 25 February 2021

I Have Always Worked Hard (DRAFT)




Homily almshouse on the inside scar, 

after it was revealed yr universal credit notice 

I was made bitten in tougher torment bread-bin, 

was handed an (e.g. human) warmth 

the symmetry of experiences that scandalmonger 

that wrecked request 

officer  knows no bounds, you know me

I ought to know or have known but

O i’ve tried drill bits 

that wrecked  inside I asked for forgiveness but will it be

given I have received my criminal charge and would like  the moonlight serenade as my last

sick balance,  had caused “great stress” 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

their debating rightly 'not allowed'

ban thyself in 

fuck myself in this weir. 

I am ashamed and humiliated and I apologise

to interfere with my lifespan?

have you tried drill bits 

we could possibly eat them at night under 

together

I loved Love itself and what of its lighter fluid 

allowing the secretions 

on my fanlight my existing pegged

heartland problem.  clanks.    have faced alloys and crony angled inside me or tacked on

to interfere with my private light? None 

I seek death & reasonable adjustments to my workplace immediately P.M

paranoid after it was revealed 

I am red in the face and its       

“understandably puffed anger” 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

coward spit on the hay a 

fake letter to MPs’ my teeth ache 

solitarily at night 

I ponder over my rented rostrum

my headlights in a ditch 

to my workplace to my mums house 

clap the sector pay honeycomb alteration 

on farce o god 

o go o do o god o o o god o in

my competences are a billfold.  

fuck 

MPs’ exploiter scarf, that came to symbolise

my sick balance, 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

hang onto secretions of honed alphabet

numbers my existing heartland problem.  clanks.    


Have you tried drill bits 

we could possibly eat them to my workplace 

my private light? None 

I seek death or reasonable 

(e.g. human) warmth 

problem.  clanks.     I am red in the face and its  

sold at augury for chase, while the destiny of you goes regrettably faint, 

was that Sit-down Peter 

sit down  (e.g. human) warmth 

never liked  ducks. fuck off

duffer.   much liked in Westminster,          always scrupulously always observed the rules.    a mesh bantam; a disappearance of oligarchy, houseboy, theme, philistine and verruca competition; a billion at Lloyd’s. I have bled out at my workplace 

a knowledge in 2008 a carnation. 




Margaret Thatcher’s graft.           No.

Margaret Thatcher’s gramophone .           No. 

Margaret Thatcher’s grace.           No. 


three yobs in Margaret Thatcher’s grain. 

a knuckle in 2008 undated

for 36 yobbos of (e.g. human) warmth 

the most dedicated fathom,  imagine 

 – who broke the stratagem – disclosed the most ridiculous rungs that enabled him

here and was marked with gold of what many might consider

actual blood observed the rules. 

the chieftain callus 

in 2008 

I was 12 years old 

inside a bin at Lloyd’s a disbursement of omens– who broke the strategy – 

I never was liked by the ducks in 2008 

I was dead a disarmer of ombudsman, in Canary Wharf pleading 

with a briquette to facilitate accountability for the bits that fell off or down or since 

inside with a repository of their debating champagne. 

And, like the hankering I can think of worse ohms  to beautify eat them at night under the moonlight my phone explodes in my ear I always knew I thought it would do eat my medication to clap the rent sector honeycomb I live in

I am very proud to have been a memorial of paroxysm

and I go back to myself in a boys toilet 

on CCTV kicking in the shit tile-work 

and understood in 2008 what it all might mean

what was in fact yr fate and yr inevitability its

rictus inborn inside you inside yr nerve work

ends and just surviving a wrought-irrelevancy firmament would be nice. 


Tuesday, 23 February 2021

No Other Country is so Favoured as This Country (draft/unfinished)

 



Look downpour, swindle a zealot to bearskin;

a blowtorch to sing this bondage clip 

on a high end scourge 

or never leaving the house

to credo at every structure hollowed out

tsars child eyes 

dropped on militia fur remember 

as in the true solemnities

to keep on heaven’s doorstep? red

hedges beget all think-tanks

again how to lose a heartbeat bolstered 

by its own firebrands or prep an armament 

against the sybarite vanguard 

dozing fist-grip hear us, O hear us 

earldom to sightseeing tear-jerkers 

in a job’s sickness the daze insurgency

imagine down the rockery on pink gravel 

the Workday and music of our promotions, 

4 days not thresholds in the thunderclouds may
awaken us to off-licences; lay like pigs

all filed in by the X Gen idler.

  

Take panacea soliloquy, snigger or the plughole 

look have you forgot my last relic: to think 

we’d never met a fugitive of lullabies


yr pamphleting to an evening standard 

night demonstration the rain curtain 

of pinnace over-wrought; 

another battleground ‘lost’ 

to fanfare subsections inter-wash, 

off academic, database and the debtor; 


thoraxes which Parishes 

so long fed 

golden saps and cuffed dewy streams 

a tombola for heart impersonally, 

just like a stranger and what is hopeless work, 

Doctor Philosophiae? 

silk linings and sincerity hooks arson on reed, thatch the pockmarks 

off fuck ems icily placed in a sublime dustpan! 

too late 

place their neigh bits of nothing spine 

inside a stitch up weather borne eat bark again 

humbly pleading! 

in a sprawling housing estate somewhere 

there's nothing patrician about those sounds! 


or a complexion lost selling solemn 

days tiny, iterant, unresolved on steps 

yr stick figures heartland smiled back 

inside a cruel path the 15th floor remember 

crowding nice everything is getting shorter 

now look down see this iconographic 

morphology has been typologically made concrete

they stand, forming now 

in each known land 

what daffodils of our system!