Monday 29 June 2020

In Surrey (Final)

A crap misaim bottled of sable 
colour wired together 
in clop of blondish tuff
asking for dodo meat again outside 
for old times sake an obsolete light 
stills the silk jackets out in  
Cookham melt brittle toenails to the sun 
purlin in defect blat pril the sweet air, 
wherein my joys are a chest pain 
under the dropping floors 
its satyr chorus of imperium 
hard-ons this soil 
is grace and favour like eaves 
shaded long in a psychodrama 
hell submissive loyal to
portfolio marquee screening 
the kindred grandezza in
nacreous snail trail all popped 
white-collar clubmen 
moue in tandem toby jugged
ranine dinner speech  
muzzle the coffers  
mine hence not yours