Friday 12 February 2021

Reckful's Final Moments on Twitch

H.M. Factory Inspectorate on swan pedalo 

holding on the repository roll

to ameliorate sooner or later a floor operative 

all the way back to Heaven again 

I planted secret radios on the banks of the Euphrates,

held together by a dry leaf picket line 

and carried on sniffing ether from my bowl

O to toil in the rubicon makes you sore bellicose 

before the barcarolle resumes as happy music, 

you cry out rooted to the harmonic spot

teeth-whitening indoors again 

“It is the next day.”

 no teeth you hadn't realised nodding cruxiformed 

                 in the London sky beading red

                 I pray to the ArcelorMittal helter-skelter

                 twice nightly, reduced me to cathedral tears


To drinking to waking smiling  

to eventually running as Oracle 101 

over creches of voluntary Hi-Vis blowing 

white flags from the Dream Station, unstuck

a concrete pillbox slips into shimmering pontoon .

I set North to a flue gas stack empty people 

reconstruct a kind of twilight of working, 

a sort of unblinking cosmic relic 

of spared hamstrings in Worker jackets torn adrift to be today? 

in the deep morass of history the Dream Station sinks I lay out 

go back to the most insurgent rostrum I ever had mined 

my Hammarn soft-bed, unclothed fretting and twitching.

 I lay down and  equipment rends on in my absence

an image vanguard in soft pell mell

there was no illness inside me 

only contracted speaking from above?

Oracle 101 'They do how?' versions of 

Monday converge in renal cortices 

as the New Dark Age taps my moth eaten 

hands swipes right off command 

stuck in I am scentless with peak freedom, 

a red tape rolodex wraps around

my neck sheds a rubber stamp 


My doctor throws the book

throws the gears of my virtual

skelecog in the choking fug 

reunite near the water cooler

but withdrawal time runs

down inside me I am sad to report

scarcity through a key-hole slither,

I speak with my neighbour 

he says "Get in early.” Helps the Oxford Mindfulness Centre 

comes twice a fortnight with my ether bowl

it drives a bendy bus usually found badly animated

'It doesn't, does it?' with fare-dodgers scrumming the rear

all falling off quiet as pelch, 

I take the bowl from a red rose

tattooed hand swollen with resting blood.

O centurion of stale twinge

in my nostril and heavy antecedent love

white-on-red in a kind of English pastoral 

projection, I lay back its Reckful's final 

moments on Twitch 808 

do not interrupt intrusive 

for euphony