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Tuesday, 3 September 2019

British Cabinet room practically as it was July 1914 (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)





From the cabinet room
Lord Salisbury used the
fireplace as a tool meaning
 soot would be cleaned a broom
made of birch and twigs,
        an unusual and ingenious way of dealing
with smoke as oath of credit
 or malice by the door 
              of a friendlier peace term 
more opulent than your 
 escargot in English,
       bid this a courtesy title
      radically simplified paltry, 
‘hopefully’ fertile and abject drudges 
 shaped in duck pate to the
golden fool for 140 hours 
a week suckered  at ‘very’ ‘due’ to
‘ongoing’ ‘equal’ ‘yourself’ ‘unacceptable’
and ‘no longer fit for purpose’
     though it blew
   back the wain of day into 
the 18th century safeguarding
   of their brood 
shine the dumb men as thy
throng directly below the knight 
and above the gentlemen,
clinker in pay point spine 
until you die out in 
dry-beat gamma-ray 
photons, can eject eligible children
        so if you die you die really what music
will whisper that! and keep going
 whipped at the crofts 
      every morning fringed
          out like a chain of legally
entrenched Red Teams
              incentivised to overcome  
          a little speck like you
climbing back into the
soil you came from,
  nodding off with carillons again to
 see new possibilities
     of jesting into bleach 
   empery the vines leaves with
gilded haw peat
the front door from blood or a
substance that looks like it
does not mark you out
from love of archaic
they should know
and remember devices prow of this shore
are stranded, even now
    more barren, more austere 
to crown his rod and say 
  a key to all the chiding
of pain, eyes 
     which never rise look
     out upon this mulch and pray
                a little less lawful than your 
kind is going down into the
fly ash, lime and bentonite 
while Jeff Bezos 
is explicitly trying to revive the 
Mueller vision and 
Britain should be helping him
do it much, much faster!