Tuesday 29 December 2020

Blood Orbit in Civil (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)


Heart of tastemakers

in vogue mound of Landlord artisans 

some invented urban spring

and Monday means you can eat 

chevrons of dried renters blood

you have unwittingly stoked the market 

by living contingency of 

pillow talk don't ever wake up

its acute eco-piety plastique history 

maps poverty in epic skid marks of rubber,

a double headed city touching me now

in a waiting room tribunal 

my mute mouthful of air 

pulled down in succession of 

heritage versions of history 

played in tumblers and dropped

like golden turds all bas-relief, 

until nature decides to have a laugh 

wipes it all out yt NPC 

with a head of arrows 

glissando this morning nothing 

intimate is loitering in the waiting room

around perfect choirs of rosemary sprigs, 

loosely in this drooling age 

and other countries?

with a thick pall 

and wassail lichen bards

messes of borage my unkept hair

the nouveau riche is cutting wind 

free of old star podsnappery

that can't swallow bone idle

to flaxen tail its equipoise is digit 

railing sentences about weather 

after growth intelligentsia and its verticality 

from Margate to Aberystwyth 

Penzance to Aberdeen every skin 

lech merciful to our senior partners, 

landed jauntily the pure and impure white head 

has been disturbed 

and the ruling towers of commerce 

'we only need to be lucky once' image macro  

infields a profound caesura in my heart 

came too late and mimics the mires 

we have Dulwich wet bedroom re-enactments 

and the unchanging personnel of this class

war sicked to find the cutting instrument 

bedded in 72 habitable floors

managing the depressed apex of 

tribal rites spraying 

au fond terra incognita 

my trackiebums in fens 

wiping off the corporate tax 

at the walls of diadem floodlights 

a social totality lies outside

the White cliffs over Dover, 

bones ERG and druids say 

non legitur christen the old born

in fleet ditches a dodo skeleton waiting room

blood winning expense of ill itch 

courier web its thermal herding

a magic roundabout 

in dusk shivered and skived

Thursday 24 December 2020



Deputised tight coming sockets

convinced we did it via a loss

replace them in hell plastic 

hard-boiled in each of us expected, 

anything actually sulphuric 

galoshes love again this harboured arm, yours

a liveried shit

in not for having it out under

big respite cease and turned

stolen or burnt darts off this red exiting 

which life coins into horrid boils

my ever dying dad on common grass 

billed & heavy in taurine

the gateway high heavens open eloping

bangs sincerely a weak sort paling

dead a foiled bonfire

of tepid Williams distant wars 

dandled spines floating 

all back to the Rose 

thrown overboard one evening

changing the course of all coffee

& eventually grease & magnolia.

Saturday 19 December 2020

In Boiling England, 2020


In Boiling England, 2020
30 new poems 
62 pp, self-published bound paperback 
December 2020
Cover Design and interior typography by Sophie Carapetian 
Typesetting and Design by Joshua Hart

Life Blood, 2020

60cm x 40cm 
oil on Belgium linen 


Thursday 10 December 2020

Police children are Born (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

Inside of eaten rent, milquetoast 

the corners of black mould gently 

scouring loaned iron skillets 

or a life non-scarce cosied 

and out to lunch hasten 

the dock-less night leave me 

in one of the many Royal Parks

surrounded by swan meat inedible

coughed up tributaries to a palisade care 

from bromides the jobless

a giblet of gravy of our species the harder 

you shake the pack the harder  

a FF175BP fridge-freezer makes sense, 

on a Sirius rising to singing polymer 

foils its cavity barrier  

crowns civis of pulped Celotex

and the omnibus pudding boils for hours

unattended so stay put rend this dotage,

your fault of sweet whips ding-dong 

a fine divide in net curtains 

or neighbouring skyline of cutpurses 

snapped up in sub tenure 

I go down to the regeneration department

on a countless heartbeat, fingering 

the cool infirmary of municipal socialism, 

faked patronage broken 

my angiograms in rescue effort and watch

the slenderest margins drop

flake on soaring orphans 

with a council tendency support grant 

I am catapulted to the event horizon,

Dear Peter John A Year in Provence 

on winter oranges swilling 

blood snaps on a pawnbrokers bough 

LTD inflated Roman Law it gets milage 

as A.D chums blow donee the lot

lost in outtage the midnight flicks 

cannot bless me an echo chamber still 

so doors locked quick in eviction time 

O.B.E J.C.B Apostle Peter John, 

I was the man injecting drugs into his penis 

and it will happen again 

for tillage of Get Living 

my last new will available, 

sink it deep in bounty corpora

look welt of early impalement

sanctioned hair comb as custom

blindness hoards whiffle GO pleat

leather grain, everything looks great

in nuclear light the gangland spire 

stokes spare music on crimson bob

O downpours on Jerusalem 

get entrepreneurial quickcherry cloudsmith

Monday 7 December 2020


Sino block in middle camp

nurdle clumps sick ablate or,

as in consulate inwards

over gelded estuary 

summit for cross-fencible 

and antiquated dovetails 

not yet permanently but 

in nubile blood hoax balds tincture, 

harps on free forever

biting reuptake thought pressed

on a market ego I pulse in foie gras 

a dysplastic life fuddles clean

the canicular of committed role-play, 

to amp my agro mouth sideways

trading wind on narrow lanes

walkways sick of the sight of anyone

under bruxism fume hold a vapour breath

to a lapsed bid togethering

the last cloud contact burns 

each today a tone of grouse and puce

distempering in rough reproof 

the chap-less doublecross 

Laowai sticks with black tongue