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Thursday, 25 February 2021

I Have Always Worked Hard (DRAFT)




Homily almshouse on the inside scar, 

after it was revealed yr universal credit notice 

I was made bitten in tougher torment bread-bin, 

was handed an (e.g. human) warmth 

the symmetry of experiences that scandalmonger 

that wrecked request 

officer  knows no bounds, you know me

I ought to know or have known but

O i’ve tried drill bits 

that wrecked  inside I asked for forgiveness but will it be

given I have received my criminal charge and would like  the moonlight serenade as my last

sick balance,  had caused “great stress” 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

their debating rightly 'not allowed'

ban thyself in 

fuck myself in this weir. 

I am ashamed and humiliated and I apologise

to interfere with my lifespan?

have you tried drill bits 

we could possibly eat them at night under 

together

I loved Love itself and what of its lighter fluid 

allowing the secretions 

on my fanlight my existing pegged

heartland problem.  clanks.    have faced alloys and crony angled inside me or tacked on

to interfere with my private light? None 

I seek death & reasonable adjustments to my workplace immediately P.M

paranoid after it was revealed 

I am red in the face and its       

“understandably puffed anger” 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

coward spit on the hay a 

fake letter to MPs’ my teeth ache 

solitarily at night 

I ponder over my rented rostrum

my headlights in a ditch 

to my workplace to my mums house 

clap the sector pay honeycomb alteration 

on farce o god 

o go o do o god o o o god o in

my competences are a billfold.  

fuck 

MPs’ exploiter scarf, that came to symbolise

my sick balance, 

of (e.g. human) warmth 

hang onto secretions of honed alphabet

numbers my existing heartland problem.  clanks.    


Have you tried drill bits 

we could possibly eat them to my workplace 

my private light? None 

I seek death or reasonable 

(e.g. human) warmth 

problem.  clanks.     I am red in the face and its  

sold at augury for chase, while the destiny of you goes regrettably faint, 

was that Sit-down Peter 

sit down  (e.g. human) warmth 

never liked  ducks. fuck off

duffer.   much liked in Westminster,          always scrupulously always observed the rules.    a mesh bantam; a disappearance of oligarchy, houseboy, theme, philistine and verruca competition; a billion at Lloyd’s. I have bled out at my workplace 

a knowledge in 2008 a carnation. 




Margaret Thatcher’s graft.           No.

Margaret Thatcher’s gramophone .           No. 

Margaret Thatcher’s grace.           No. 


three yobs in Margaret Thatcher’s grain. 

a knuckle in 2008 undated

for 36 yobbos of (e.g. human) warmth 

the most dedicated fathom,  imagine 

 – who broke the stratagem – disclosed the most ridiculous rungs that enabled him

here and was marked with gold of what many might consider

actual blood observed the rules. 

the chieftain callus 

in 2008 

I was 12 years old 

inside a bin at Lloyd’s a disbursement of omens– who broke the strategy – 

I never was liked by the ducks in 2008 

I was dead a disarmer of ombudsman, in Canary Wharf pleading 

with a briquette to facilitate accountability for the bits that fell off or down or since 

inside with a repository of their debating champagne. 

And, like the hankering I can think of worse ohms  to beautify eat them at night under the moonlight my phone explodes in my ear I always knew I thought it would do eat my medication to clap the rent sector honeycomb I live in

I am very proud to have been a memorial of paroxysm

and I go back to myself in a boys toilet 

on CCTV kicking in the shit tile-work 

and understood in 2008 what it all might mean

what was in fact yr fate and yr inevitability its

rictus inborn inside you inside yr nerve work

ends and just surviving a wrought-irrelevancy firmament would be nice. 


Tuesday, 23 February 2021

No Other Country is so Favoured as This Country (draft/unfinished)

 



Look downpour, swindle a zealot to bearskin;

a blowtorch to sing this bondage clip 

on a high end scourge 

or never leaving the house

to credo at every structure hollowed out

tsars child eyes 

dropped on militia fur remember 

as in the true solemnities

to keep on heaven’s doorstep? red

hedges beget all think-tanks

again how to lose a heartbeat bolstered 

by its own firebrands or prep an armament 

against the sybarite vanguard 

dozing fist-grip hear us, O hear us 

earldom to sightseeing tear-jerkers 

in a job’s sickness the daze insurgency

imagine down the rockery on pink gravel 

the Workday and music of our promotions, 

4 days not thresholds in the thunderclouds may
awaken us to off-licences; lay like pigs

all filed in by the X Gen idler.

  

Take panacea soliloquy, snigger or the plughole 

look have you forgot my last relic: to think 

we’d never met a fugitive of lullabies


yr pamphleting to an evening standard 

night demonstration the rain curtain 

of pinnace over-wrought; 

another battleground ‘lost’ 

to fanfare subsections inter-wash, 

off academic, database and the debtor; 


thoraxes which Parishes 

so long fed 

golden saps and cuffed dewy streams 

a tombola for heart impersonally, 

just like a stranger and what is hopeless work, 

Doctor Philosophiae? 

silk linings and sincerity hooks arson on reed, thatch the pockmarks 

off fuck ems icily placed in a sublime dustpan! 

too late 

place their neigh bits of nothing spine 

inside a stitch up weather borne eat bark again 

humbly pleading! 

in a sprawling housing estate somewhere 

there's nothing patrician about those sounds! 


or a complexion lost selling solemn 

days tiny, iterant, unresolved on steps 

yr stick figures heartland smiled back 

inside a cruel path the 15th floor remember 

crowding nice everything is getting shorter 

now look down see this iconographic 

morphology has been typologically made concrete

they stand, forming now 

in each known land 

what daffodils of our system!


Wednesday, 17 February 2021

HOW TO LOSE (very early draft/unfinished)

  



We can fairly aver that a reduction of wages in the woollen manufacture would be a national blessing and advantage, and no real injury to the poor.

By this means we might keep our trade, uphold our rents,

and reform the people into the bargain.


J.Smith: Memoirs of Wool. 1747 II



Hope is better 

[*See also: aspiration]

in a petri dish   //  as you go beneath 

it hold this clemency

hold this bargaining zilch you are neatly

weak kneed fail upon inside through gap’s totality 

and into an improperly constructed  

poorhouse made from seeing 

as I am there

ofF SICKLED proboscis     

going forward I 

dictate the bean counter  

not a single grain of rice left

showing initiative* when under pressure 

courtlier like baskets, leather bags, or cloth sacks 

a candle tied to forehead

light scraped 

the ongoing deteriorated mental resilience

as ones timetable falls down into abysmal score-print

in  

                                                                       Green LIGHT.  contained within your contract, section 13.5.    


blood sank in report template 

hurriedly our brain can't function our teeth complain 

the whole data, personal, emotional

in irrational pellets

MD MSc MRCS MFOM

There Is No Alternative

as waste bins are caged and padlocked. food dies away 

slip there is scarcity,

while at the same time there is no limit 

  O, bloodworm. Surround. people

 there is space freeable around the hole 

clench both your fists for

15 seconds, then relax them

feel the tension draining away 

nails retreat on a daily basis

this thrice hunch your shoulders back 

15 seconds and relax repeat and continue 

the routine with jaw clenched and relaxing 

finally screw your eyes up tightly inside and

feeling the tension pop goes the rule of law

your eyes up tightly

disappear defect, also known as ‘need’

today I am not sick in the clearing of 

hornets and the passing of trade

today I limp back inside sequinned curtains 

and shade property rights.      

going forward I say Eyes must be fed

showing initiative* Atos Doctors 

croustade inside no substructure.

GRANNY M. DECADE DEAD

 GRANNY M. DECADE DEAD



Ogham no escutcheon Rome ruled the skyline

refracted in a bough of drink cassock under dominion 

awaiting knight’s armour'd sac: 

a swooning sideline of red faces 

untouched heart of moss 

lichen starch & mock Tudor coda

very little Celtic blood left over

in this appanage of carraigĂ­n 

urine inside the Rose, 

Planter and the Gael suppose

I am your heart-to-heart pricked on

like a Pinhead in the wasteland 

sent pall and spoiling back for a fight 

laying in their wool milk for hours 

et mon droit cruciform on damp sand

sold outside church gates 

commemorative not symbolic

more magnificence brought low, 

and that’s why I used Ripolin!

lustre to yr murder before Gods

sectarianism over an open fire 

all blood passes under guardianship 

langued ramrod to your peace 

lined home or rule rubble barricade

worthy of being held in its signal of kindling flame 

or shot in the face? 

O bending verge God is my right 

to stick on Lilly and blow a 10 foot 

hole in London Stock Exchange. 


Today the British spirit surges 10-points in share prices

w/ painted buckler and plumy chests 

porpoise oil the trading floor traffic 

& environmental zone bolts 

the door inn powerhouse spoils 

upper vest raining masonry 

and glass on Iveco Ford Cargo 

to the table heavy with song 

the venerable memorial pale bent shape 

of natural need, hunger can be gelignite 

or 'in disgust and its opposite 

is reflected the whole of history' 

a surcoat of white silk mantle lined with red

thats yr appanage handful of little rock

to their coronet of pectins water stock 

spite handshakes & cured claps 

within a lumen scratched on off

mucosa or vomiting in the Roman Fashion

bursting something like in your chest imagine 

resisting an ulcer of scarlet 

livery to rend tomorrow breaks

in via the garden fence 

Monday, 15 February 2021

Jacqui Smith Lives in Redditch, 2017



 

REST BREAKS GROUNDHOG HOLE V

12th of February 2021
7.30 GMT
Joseph Samuel Buckley 
Jill Mcknight 
Joshua Hart 
Roy Claire Potter 
John Ryaner
ZOOM


Saturday, 13 February 2021

Geschichte des Stuhls (Faust Shkaravsky), 2021

 

30cm x 45cm

Oil on expensive European fabric

Friday, 12 February 2021

DIDO HARDING BLEEDING (draft)





 DIDO HARDING BLEEDING 

OUT:

A STONE 


You must live off plenaries in the tiny pip the rental market 

is an alternative fact 


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 Malware crash button Hepatitis B 

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

on Ketamine, acting empathically


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 a freezing 

asset thawing out 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 


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 

to death sometimes it feels like there is 

nothing we can do about it

underneath a bandstand