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Thursday, 30 January 2020

Tory feudal view of society (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)




One harmless tourist always
wants to be alone as 
plotted plants sir Landseer
iconic cold glass alongside 
air eating sector eyes, till
the building fabric is a common
feudal-style patronage
a hatred of words with its severe rectilinear
death mod curls on a quintessence but 
it isn't like that in real life is it
because real life is a blood clot of lost water 
and high brick walls,
battlemented sets out, a safe world
they all go woolly and if you can’t 
find  the secretive sanctuary garden 
then yr clearly lost



Saturday, 18 January 2020

Wednesday, 8 January 2020

Destruction of country houses in 20th-century Britain PART 1 (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)





From memory the modern physiognomy of 
the best picnic is on Agars Plough,
how can you forget massive gazebos 
overflowing with fresh salmon
and Moet out the proverbial bucket!
O' dancing in the moonlight
we're dancing in the moonlight 
when that moon is big and bright 
it's a supernatural delight, 
when everybody is dancing in the moonlight!
o' we're dancing in the moonlight 
pin locked and the clashing oars are
needle grown out of HM Government
children are the bilge for best water
just like rabid class equipment 
declines in 'returns' of each cohort reneged 
sorry is the hardest word but you learn 
from your mistakes remember 
you just like walking around its intrepid fantasy 
with elbows in the topiary garden dancing to
the architecture of moonlit colonnades, 
the custodial moonlit amphiteatres, the moonlit
night-club interiors as designed by Edwin Lutyens 
on old drugs and re-thought as a underground bungalow 
and exit into anti-ligature moonlit prisons 
with calico print on the walls that keep you
in a second nature bind
like the new poor law. 

By day devoted exclusively to treadmill prayer,
and by night the very cradle of blessed liberty!
a palliative of others in the good collective bed
endogenous to mobility regime
upping flowers in a new
version of dirt if they do not exist 
from their own subsistence then 
remember biting the monarch bestowing
largess horsepower is reinventing the 
wheel to 70 poor boys of custos closed
by the brocas as informal water 
pageant splitting custom made faux-stone toys 
blocking up amenities all the way down 
Dorney lake like shit doesn't sink!
well I'll let you know to each his own
keep on a pierced porphyry throne for 
imperial measure to watch
the poor niche alcoves. 
















Tuesday, 7 January 2020

Dewaele (2016 Re-edit)




Unknown for everyone as difficult 
matter the word that comes to me: 
a lord violent, shady
but inhabited in flat biting 
cingulum tough body
dry-hair over a beautiful broken face
unknown for everyone 
a wagon for a wagon
always in the fog, 
cottony, all day long
looked like he was sleeping 
considered it all with formidable finds
the child cuspids battered
often prisoned
tough dry-hair
raised out by mother,
stories of histories
time immemorial
in the bistro spilling conversion
the preacher preached, 
life on the screen on the street
without any distinction 
a lord, a violent sir
head shady but inhabited 

Life is Sport (2016 Draft re-edit)





More milk dispensaries than ATM’s
ballerinas siesta with jogging bottom 
left at home all day family planning,
domestic care and 
educational systems can’t predict 
aerosolised, manic and ambulatory
in Victoria Sq. is the destruction of restaurants                                  
a yes that can’t hear 
milkweed the sustenance 
monarch or avuncular 
gone to the numbers 
game and not war
and you won cold from warmth
resplendent light makes work 
that is not work
light bulbs in daylight  
asks such a slightness that
needs a head against a tree 
looted floribunda
in kitchenettes in SUV’s 
arboretum full of profound 
asthma attacks with mothers and fathers
in bed, glued together 
yearning for timeless grasp 
of verities ausmerze 
6 million lazy gluteus’ 
drive cars without ancestors 
full with silence and cunning pass pink
filis and its cages rented
is this property of the mind?
virtuous world tongues coming
thru your window at midday 
wall of lips sing
of all things to eat: 
dirty worker consolation
o' vulnerable grid
what occurs in your latitude
master monstrance
dance on the temples
today who named
a meticulous industry 
and of conditions
laid for fear put the fly
out disturbing its casual unpreparedness