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Thursday, 24 December 2020

Russel Beard (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

 



Deputised tight coming sockets

convinced we did it via lose replace

them in the hell plastic 

hard-boiled in each of us 

anything actually sulphuric 

galoshes love again a harboured arm, 

a liveried shit in not for having it

out under big respite ceased 

and turned to parliament pancreases

stolen and burnt darts off red exit 

coins into horrid boils my ever dying

dad on common grass 

billed and heavy in taurine

gateway high heavens eloping

and folding dry soil served blue cheese

for rank demoralised complicity

bangs sincerely and a weak sort paling

and dead and then fog a foiled bonfire

of tepid Williams distant wars 

and dandled spines floating 

all back to the rose 

thrown overboard one evening

changing the course of all coffee

and eventually grease 

and magnolia indenture 

is such as peas are eaten

nicked feathered off the retreating

bunch brume from and hoed

the pub cursed in sweet ghoul

all invited all downed English garden

types Hannah with anuses 

papered off cheering rain

inside a cold screaming blight

barred in mind to really drink

through the hatch really not

under the table with the banquet

of reserved types skint

and flouting ridged flutes

of Prosecco meadows or pastimes

on backs of living brutes

from down here the clipping yard

is a reflection proud,

as is sad stolen fuel a ghost 

metabolism of astonishingly few 

souls left dried and winnowed

into a capacious metal gullies again

look up puffed slant out skad 

a monarchial type

on palmful kip cracked rime

and half glasses of fibrous rent 

ate everything this morning

a universal history sung

and very rich desserts inside

the local teetering steadfast gone eyes

on rest abut husks some butter noised

as a panoply with long pale food 

a field to die in was lobsters

without each other forced deviation

of the jaw agonist in the dark 

of basal ganglia and cerebellum 

ruination of ad execs 

we would laugh at pins 

dropping into what is made for them,

in/to adamant bark a plague isle 

on teething recession of food source

under the saddest ballad of all

nurslings swaddled in plastic rings

from an oil spill from future past