Dido Harding Bleeding Out a Stone

You must live off plenaries 

in the tiny pip the rental market 

is an alternative fact than the idyll 

of freezing mud its venues in six silhouetted 

storied separations we lay deligh- 

tfully still in our thousands upward

pissing what is cause over effect? 

what is a child infirmary guild? 

Answer: a loud scree, Rishi

a mothball belly collapses to 

capsule red yearning 

and pining I saw feral boys wandering 

out the imploded evil box 

with cracked heads all reckless with stones 

and things like that,

Dido Harding you see her 

after a cyber attack  

or something revealing the details 

of four million faces that's why

anonymity is sacred and 

facelessness is sacrifice! 

so put the human racecourse 

within the exclusion zone!

Participant Manfred Loves You

remember like the softest plush toy 

ever all biding in planter silk 

Homeowner 'watch-it-burn' 

in a McDonalds toilet over and over

again in their elements for good reason 

on Ketamine, acting empathically

blood out of stone and so on,

acting like it’s hurting close 

your eyes into the stresses 

Sefton, Horse of the Year

on route to Changing of the Guard 

Dido Harding bleeding out a stone

with cards and mints and things like that

those that died were called 

Cedric, Epaulette, Falcon, Rochester, 

Waterford, Yeastvite and Zara

all this sweetness all in 

dark outside clipping, we thought 

we saw it moving. We had to shoot it 

to relieve its suffering 

the clubhouses have moved again

like we've all got some socialism 

inside us and no one has scabies, Dido Harding 

there's no misery for good reason 

like rocks Dido Harding bleeding out 

over Quango our empty white lanyards 

all seem to be shrinking through our insides

echo grey are bloodless stones Dido Harding

in the carbine in the ellipse in a- 

nything representing a motorcade

of hate you’re still the 

same persuasion rick with h- 

eart of shrapnel, and we will nev 
er die, softly or faintly again

in a rentiers ring-a-rosie at 
noon our little empty lanyard dangles

out, Serfton archangel partly swollen,

without blood in a full state kit

we have to exit the vicinity only 

real workers can stay on site only 

Dido Harding still to come and 

we will never tell them, even a 

single word picked out of a rose

spoken I would rather die than 

become a Rose scabbing

from the glasshouse rental market

rocks that flinch for no good reason

I don't care my life is freezing 

mud and thawing out in 

sunhats O up-to-drizzle 

off inheritance lets chalk 

ourselves to the perma-dorms of

the poor students fuck off Andrew Neil 

is hard as nails hard as faeces 

hard as the Labour Party is full of 

hearties with dispensaries 

my factotum is twisting in

all looking out on open 

heart surgery hot seated 

in the HR dept is

representing brightness itself 

like everything denied to 
us is flowing through our 

workload upon Homeowner 

I, without an alias 

Labour Party fuck off 

the sunhats O the sublime O

with lightship O rainstorm like 

distinct ideologies never hustled anyone 
sometimes it feels like there’s 

nothing we can do about it

underneath a bandstand