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Thursday, 1 July 2021

Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Act 2012 (DRAFT)



I have piled my little heart 

to worship the road through the cows pasture

by peat moss is now jackbooted churlish 

but I digress as hours are swallowed to all the broad acres 

all of Kennington Common, remember enclosing it 

with other armholes such as larch and paste

My hon. 

landowner crimps the menials

&tendon maturities end to end 

I will start this debate with a quote:

 trespass on land& you will be kicked hard 

one inch below the heart, 

no doctor will console you 

no doctor will defend your blood gargled mouth 

from overflowing, 

left alone in the corner as the night downs 

upon a blundered pane of glass 

a mirrored grey sallow face appears

covered in a tangle of lichen 

kissing all the while the back of your now dead neck 

thumbing & fingering, Michael Richard Weatherley 

summoned the whole of canting arms 

otherwise known as LASPO

introduced by Kenneth Clark 

Within the territorial extension of the UK

as per Weatherley's law terms were made, helmet showed

in favour fo the corporate body

there was the creation of closes 

was an enclosure was by those who acted together 

was united in one person before the sovereign 

when any lord shall enter the Parliament chamber

to assign to him his place, according to his dignity 

& degree, to carry the ensign of the order

for the offence of abstracting electricity, 

or climbing through an open window 

the maximum sentence 

is five years’ imprisonment 

rows of fifteen slept side by side 

on the floors of cells intended for a single person, 

strolls were held at various times of the day

 in shifts are itching & this cannot go on, 

you have to strip down everything 

to the screws down back to the old 

cordoned scrap  my die-sinker 

rows of fifteen irrecoverably the same 

& upon & under a map-like skin 

you revel at taken root 

like to so & with that inside you 

cannot refute inside this property 

you cannot 

‘I want somewhere posher, 

with a swimming pool if possible’, 

 incredible numbers were cited, 

until they bled until they bared 

the teeth of its oversized haul 

enlarged by the atropine of hunger would you? 

fuck a balance sheet hauled off to the margins behind 

&crossed off greyed impenetrable prison walls, 

build it all over again & once & for all 

the plans are ready & the builders fingers 

are itching but the old corroding life blood 

& to fail to leave a property within 24 hours 

we must work closely with enforcement authorities  

& to woe to woe to woe   

it is late & my soul is dark also 

 have you seen my eyebrows 

drop with rubber truncheons 

until they bled trampled pavements I leaned against,  

looked in. 

My hon. Fiend will  

 throw pails you shied away from    

 smiling quietly for you only I tear apart 

the smart box of the cell of hallucinogenic film, 

with a flick of the wrist softly 

on his clot, piled & only the strong 

settled stalling for them inside 

onto a man of no more, 

of teeth truss 

 if there is sufficient evil croaking 

of teeth, rose above the street 

they are organised & frequently menacing

 lived in barred in a predatory 

of teeth, rose above the street 

 

dirty stray mutts 

little short docked fox terriers 

choking odour wandering 

down the knotted labyrinth, 

the maze separation is seven yelps, 

you survive the maze separation 

is five years’ impurity a pack of dogs, 

outside the house is a door 

outside the door is a handle 

shielding foul contents, 

from this barred teeth came a hoarse rattle

 'its mine now, go somewhere else!' 

like gull tangled in the rigging 

of it is widely flown ownership 

as a stand-alone flag 

within the territory shielding 

foul contents from this barred teeth 

a hoarse rattle holds the doorhandle 

this is a doorhandle 

this is my doorhandle made of a face 

resembling someone receiving their benevolence, 

behind the Rolls-Royce factory 

someone is receiving 

their benevolence in Goodwood, England 

designed by architect 

Sir Nicholas Grimshaw merging effortlessly 

into the beautiful West Sussex countryside

the award-winning building was created to lower 

our environmental footprint, 

sped a motley rabid pack of dogs 

barking & squealing you have received your portrait 

as a recipient as a door handle





Please come inside now 

above the street underneath 

tendrils of containers 

of decomposing waste rotting through 

our foul contents, go somewhere else! 

receive yourself somewhere else 

a choking other through a scream. 


We must work closely with autocracies 

into the stinking drain hole, 

smiling quietly for you only

on a low wall licked eagerly, 

of which it isn't nice enough for me, 

I want somewhere with a swimming pool 

like a bolt from the heavens a simple revelation 

struck to the layabout in gad, 

taming its numb stupor  

can arsehole squibs for officers 

such as crinoline damsel burnish, 

theology or the unauthorised use of vacations 

if there is sufficient ewe of gulch 

I want somewhere posher, 

with a swimming pool 

if possible for space between me 

and the gale 

they are civil ores, but as I said, 

I want somewhere posher 

with a swimming pool if possible!



Michael Richard Weatherley, 

in the borage up to my neck fingering

stars through a keyhole 

to the offences under the 1977 Act, 

I died through holes 

saw the stars twinkling high above 

blinking on & off with a flick 

of an invisible switch a billfold you slither 

a crooked window shutter 

to see tucked inside 

A veal rib that could still be gnawed 

to the tune the national living wage  

of fingermark I cluck a purse remote to me 

by some appalling skein occupied 

through a keyhole you own this annulet this acorn 

this grooming tool, denotes service 

this industry means perseverance &

this emblem of warning enclosed is

also of canted arms 

this billet this bishops metre 

this Catherine wheel 

this symbol of martyrdom, 

a torture device in its day 

all the possible plagues of the world 

in this one spotted eye this eternal emblem of providence

on the slightest of grief unable to forgive 

this is my house this is my home foraged 

of horrible instinct I move over it 

gingerly every day dusting & polishing it 

with fragile lives & undone 

of preservation of this illusory world 

of hopelessness you the death of a living creature


You the living death of a doorhandle 

behind this seemingly unconscious pane of glass 

a gurgle of hands 

a daytime cube of the city, 

illuminated in the countless blinking of eyes 

to leave a property within 24 hours of being served 

this place isn’t nice enough for me 

I want somewhere posher, with a swimming pool 

if possible with inscriptions invisible to daylight 

in the head cracked with pain 

its meaning unknown to the symbol of a man 

of action of one who will fight if provoked 

who will fight in the street if provoked 

for the symbol of eternal life my country 

an emblem of industry, 

a lozenge wedged in the middle of this place

isn’t enough for me then not smiling 

Bootstrapped in suntrap the restless 

rising & falling of a gigantic heart 

forever pumping a scythe

the emblem of husbandry not death 

the cork tight inside etched a doorframe

itself a titling spear a knight in service 

a body of a horse, the legs of a buck 

& the tail of a lion all topped off 

with a twisted horn, a symbol of courage 

below faded to silence an unseen switch flicked

light broke out into places unseen 

my family coat of arms are on this door 

which means I own this one cutting edge 

one dutiful place behind John Humphrys 

came on the Today programme 

this morning to ask 

if it was time for Parliament 

to consider implementing the 1928 Act 

to fix the date of Easter

chopping bars of entrails symbol of resurrection

& the magic incantations cured kindly 

to the door of a collapsed large red star 

pulsing through his shaded helm ring 

around his peerless light 

insigne decorum this is my house 

and I want somewhere posher, 

with a swimming pool if possible 

people dissolving in the giant vat of the city

 clung spasmodically still payments were made

 by any who care to unpossess it, 

enamelled in their teeth are 

proper colours whispered bulletin 

through the door 

opened just a crack a message 

 'its mine go somewhere else!'