Wednesday 7 October 2020

Muscular Education (DRAFT)


Bombardier, the vein of leaf

provides early warning signs 

of danger like a plume in the 

industrial furnishings remember

nothing changes hands now;

hands have gone to heaven 

with roses bestride slipping under 

the structural adjustment programme,

reached a flotilla of budding poppies

I lock out all the tantrums of mind

inside are pseudo adult-children

crying wall to wall in Burton Montagues

kicked me in, went pan barbaric 

my swaddling clothes cut up 

like meat at dinner 

I retained my backbone mind, 

filed combat mode eating the loam with birch buds 

nightly, long and hard in the shit and drawn blood

muted you feckless lilly prute 

go blaston go sea! days of sunshine and 

youth mounting guard the cold mud 

hardly a day passing without the mortal 

cod this my metal in plastic nerve

where is my Justice of peace? 

outside old men one heart valve you exit 

the perimeter is everything a platoon 

splits in the craven mind the wind blows 

Hans Zimmer film score on plucky wooden wings 

over tossing fireworks 

into fires Master looks on people 

they make you laugh, you know 

falling across the tv I slogged for!

woe these frig clips to

stopcock or wiretap do not weary me

where is my Justice of peace? 

where are the backsides of culprits?

Winklepicker bloodsport 

gentled by European Union legislation,

still it's about personal honour that 

never dies its blue club faintly sinking 

giggling into the sea so be it! 

and now they want OUR milk! 

well that's business! 101 

pennies don’t fall from heaven drearies!

STOP and we’ve curved the vapors of Hades 

they sniff the albumin of satanics, 

out of dodge and into the broadside pleasure-land

sing and valse away with 

coats and hats and so on 

reached a flotilla of budding poppies

I lock out all the tantrums of mind again

eat my loam with birch buds 

twice nightly, they make you laugh, you know 


You, Sir Piggate admit

an air of Benthamite utilitarianism!

christen it simple and morally good action

repeat on Christmas, roasting animus

it is necessary, remember plain and simple! 

and you must mast for service, 

silence for speech! Listen

salvum iam facito tu dominum

a réchauffé was served up, you didn’t eat it

an invisible hand shudders over you ever since

remember why two silver spoons you couldn't

red nose in Church Of England prayerbook, 

kiss tight to bursting heart upon the raised dais

after dusk sine die, get backbone 

drag behind sore old growing ripening inside

boys remember running through reeds and rushes 

para bellum my legs boys on the pulse, bin of lilies 

get backbone drag behind ripening inside 

my sacerdotal dad made of dust 

bigger than your dad, also made of dust 

I wish him a strange sort of happiness, 

there is no pain two silver spoons there is 

only angels gulping salt water everlastingly 

I see my sinner brazes with eminent grise

I call it Masher, king of misbehaving and sitting in

Boughs preparing a brief speech to the assembled

boys now men no pain now just calendric time

days of sunshine and youth do not wash 

cobnut it is the tenderest

lovebite I ever hastened, could you sore that 

spot rub-a-dub here my final demand, my Masher 

death approaches call me Dave, here simply

my Desert Island disks; Adagio for Strings or

My Old man is a dustman, depends who’s asking!