Monday 30 August 2021






 O wall coils cut to an (e.g. human) warmth 

now dog-legged &hole stricken

I sing aloud from this edge & in your light 

Dear Sergeant Yobbo,

your brightest human warmth 

assuming like other members 

the identity of a body who had died young 

&be made into braids of armaments 

&worships invisible now through spy gash 

a human light made human warmth 

to you unmoved clinking ha'porth 

made your mouth to not smiling 

I speak through the Special Demonstration Squad 

using an alias of a stolen life, 

an invisible toll clamped tight 

an exit strategy of said name of deceased child 

Sergeant Yobbo, O hole-strickened hook reaped 

tight my own itch 

a wreathe spiral flickers up my face

the wind over broken stars 

cover the hole of this wall! O

I speak your mouths exit a bewitched helve 

sunk a knuckle to sunder of thorn by name 

by night you have taken 

tacked to letter mother & child 

Dear Sergeant Yobbo, 

O you have put in the cub 

got up the spout, stick knocked thricely 

in the wind this here is a policeman's child 

to wash this blood off from my guilty hand 

the identity of a boy who had died young

under evensong of a life misspelt a life mislaid 

& love of you 

Sarg Yobbo, 

twitched life entwined 

spy infiltrated my code weaved 

of each wastlings 

now foresworn to be a forged life 

re-emerged consequences of mine 

for me this broken lamp the emails have expired 

since you ruined my life 

in this here cold black pond

a shaft of light stricken white 

watching in the cleaning of tears 

the policing this living fear?

with my hand set down on penitence evermore Mr Yob, 

how many are in your creation & unreceived 

how many unforgiven 

how many am I the first spawned 

born in reverse of you with a dead child 

or I 

Sarg Yobbo, 

closed to skin of mine swathed in vela 

to be held in covers & sheets

to be made into blackjack or baton 

upon this cosh a traitor's hand 

did set it down with my name 

there a promise pass'd speak 

I will break it open &

within a mouth of rolled & folded papers

an improvised weapon of beermats, 

horse brasses, polo mints, shoelaces 

& boots squashed to form a cosh 

under your arm unwanted 

I am here, remaining a stealth weapon 

Sargin to create a handle a haft

& a rounded head at the fold 

it is me your child long-lost 


shy blot shilled memory raked with holes 

invisible in mouth sick led 

a secret unit nail clawed to grapnel 

of a boy is dead under the whole data, 

personal irrational pellet 

at I in this foisted bloodrot of this falsest of lights 

let sorrow sway

this undid my name 

& made me Sarg Yobbo spawn 

is boy to dogs

a foul for what I speak 

my body shall make a sundered blot 

in the bloodless MET 

upon this earth 

as a good should 

&spur reprisal &

O prodding strange evening 

do you remember when you fingered my lifehole!

made of me strange & want nothing 

Of what you want 

to make all good formless of touch 

these arms of due furbish in home stead 

so sighs & tears cover my eyes & ears be stole

&I am 12 years old allied to death 

into a somersault to a thin strip& with teeth on seared edges 

 approximately 2.5 times the willingness of 0.85 mm 

deboning the Queen of England

eat shit earth unbowed &steadfast 

confession stepped onto my tongue & spread 

a slanting edge of ‘morrow 

to incise a name not mine 

through the spy gash 

from a heart full of ire 

a throat down return’d 

died of speech arm to lingering arm 

I throw my gage my name alive to light itself a name 

to the furthest verge of caverns gilded blame

or starlings crash on blacken’d hymn 

a single blessedness to give curses

for 36 yobbos of philharmonic pitch

sang out Sarg Yobbery, 

of a boy inverted spells yobbo

unfaithed in Margaret Thatcher’s grain

sunk a knuckle of eviled blame

to end end! to end life! to end wishes!

to end this dispraised mood! 

roughcast & strung up 

to high heavens lullaby

O for each a year a year dead of wall’s chink 

in desiccated evening sick 

upon before once my name

was an oath of twisted faces 

became you& your tarnished places 

as to be undelivered 

O dear last night under a full moon big &bright

some nice person decided to smash my car windows 

& steal a single Bowers & Wilkins 602 speaker (series 3 - black),

a Technics record bag containing a Rotel amp 

& various cables & cds 

& my favourite green jacket

England dendritic cell populations 

on snake breathe so Georgian 

that rites tryst a brooding 

history of blood cake

on this hateful evening 

in my eye marveled a negadive

so river filled shrubs sword filled 

with the breathing the affordability of the system

a dear canary throttle 

there will always be some who suffer misfortunes 

for which they cannot provide 

&they should be helped 

by relatives, friends, voluntary groups, 

& as a last resort of course by the State, 

your name so laid arsenic on Brook Street 

a bridle bit spike tongue fit to gag 

I close up again the slogs of your necktie 

slowly scolding & railing against

the average cost of living in the UK is poetic justice 

too often in laceration of tongue is remembering affordability  

Sarg Yobbo, 

kiss to stump to be within the budding grove 

&of fleshes red for reds sake alone

&hopeless in thrums 

to accept twisted silent I. 

&I. I Have Always Worked Hard 

&at minus & willing hard on a burning backbone 

ascent into the blood of children 

on the dawn before a mothball drops 

a backleg, a knobstick knotted 

a toad &vampire combined 

&no it is not a bad business

to have a cork-screwed soul 

or a water-logged spine of jelly

& glue it fares well when dancing the Carmagnole 

lovely wall, ground & mine! into twitching sides 

on bending verge ogham no escutcheon 

refracted in a bough of drink 

cassock under dominion awaiting knight’s armour'd sac 

a swooning of red faces &untouched heart of moss 

lichen starch & mock Tudor coda

very little Celtic blood left over

in this appanage of carraigín 

urine inside the Rose

I am your heart-to-heart pricked on

like a Pinhead in the wasteland 

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 a Lilly & blow a 10 foot 

hole in London Stock Exchange 

today the British spirit surges 

10-points in share prices

all painted bucklers & plumy chests 

porpoise oil the trading floor traffic 

& environmental zone bolts 

the door inn powerhouse spoils the upper vestry 

raining masonry & glass on Iveco Ford Cargo 

to the table heavy with song 

O the venerable pale bent memorial shape 

of natural need, hunger can be gelignite 

or in disgust & its opposite 

is reflected the whole of history

of surcoat white silk mantle lined with red

thats yr appanage handful of little rock

to their coronet of pectins water stock 

within a lumen scratched on off