IV
Tomorrow, Baron Cruddas
closed for & filled with desiccated incentives
superintended on my swollen grave inconsequence,
decided not to look inside
my crawling eyes had their URLs
redirected in a silent creak of armaments
& I would like to be at the other hand
receiving the hardness of facing,
to bore a hole as he was named
LORD BARON CRUDDAS
the richest man in the City of London,
& failed to leave a proscenium
in clandestine receipt of money
a hand goes down
by a croak sapling
&might be overcome or convened
to reconsider the matter to do better
in the light of all evidence
the forage of all commitments,
your own Cash for Hons.
there is no possible way of making an inference
from the existence of one situation
to the existence of another
entirely different situation
to the winding pole
& to ash wishes we cannot infer
from events of the future
from those of the present
a superstition is nothing but belief
shined upon itself for the eschaton
in a decimals erupting your blood filled
lotus eaters my upturned smiling face
poured through languid song
in the City of London, it is business to be fingertipped
this is life from the Alpha Testing System
around chrome balustrade fronted traffic
the environmental zone condemns you
to Good over Evil, of Life over Death
&chicanes are both Good & Bad
like a blockade keg is a still from the viewpoint
where the sun shuts out a boot collapsed to a face.
Peter Baron Cruddas,
your spawn will bare the title
The Hon'bles to my twitch muzzle
hardtype or to have a wish repealed
your URL redirected to gov.uk
helping people lift themselves out of poverty
& stay out of poverty
are swollen patches
stilled in your mouth
in the corners where your lips meet
& make an angle
the boundary between public & private
on the walls of the Bank of England
is sworn sun shuts deleterious song
in chancel of let do & be Good
by the rule book the Public London Charter
debugged my linked mangle,
over stewardship of carving eyries
& to raise up high on security solutions
PoP in blood silent frozen
light hoisted & to do it again
by tackling the root the user crashes in its missing features, slips into cipher docs
is like a gateway built into a program
that debugged my linked mangle,
laburnums wrapped in Glencore-mined metals
as ‘I ate workloads’ to hissing canisters
&smiled to ruck
to we cannot give a sign the wrong sense
& to unspelling our tragic conserves,
LORD BARON CRUDDAS
i crawl through the flue of your throat
the separations are not for privies alone
& the mob outside your childhood house
is self-combustible
shouting at the appalling sky
impurely occupied & improperly ended,
Peter Baron Cruddas
of suck & stoles
of self-refunded woodpiles
of the new clubhouse insignia & Tory contracts
uncircle this night of wetrooms
piss craved on bended knee
this night cries back
cries from heart’s disguise
,the edge of nothing on fetish cries
strike down to my soul here, tomorrow today
helping people to lift themselves up
out of poverty
& stay out
& go hireling
& strip off get emetic in light sacrifices
to no starlings
I could have laughed all the same
for you no birds are released
for lists are their feelings
as beyond, or dismissive of frozen light
to hoist and to raise up high
the mock air of a lined glen
whimper through ‘Abide With Me’
Peter Baron Cruddas,
I hunger despot tears in vermin tracery
still on my cheeks, the laughter of burning rips up helping people to lift themselves to the stay of being welded around all chicanery in the heart of London! behind asphalt hillocks bullring Corps Body starred in like screaming hires all bossed up production values twisted my shear clip to tongue end on a table in the lyceum, by blots teeth audibly grind together your face sallow now I write these lines upon the whole seedlings.
