CC:
DEATH CHARTERED INSTITUTE OF
PERSONNEL & DEVELOPMENT
2021
Cole
DENYER
2021
i. †
Now your rumpled thorns keen
& scour out an alienated silhouette unwrit
the same heartless registrar burning a HR bulletin hole
bolted into callused fingers
the cruellest cramps payroll troll
fuck it. as they casually seek
to remove parts inside —dry heaving— somewhere
in arm’s letter length its subsong
trembling& wisp'd over-whelming
clavichord of some damned & suspended tic force
gets charred the hand that feeds
the migraine weather
said aloud or under briar
turns in unchecked off again
to sweat in the database vale
tiered light to thrifted light
nozzle to nozzle tight
your entitlement to occupational sickness is reduced by half
with efficiency closed, to a tabless forward
best wishbones for your continued recreation
in twilight slits the timeserver glinting
now meant to live as inadequately as told
to a ruction you cannot exhaust
if there are any other ways
it drones out in lines I inhibit
off the merest anode
mnemonic, rented on webHome .cloches
the effigy of a wren bursts
like everything I sang again
dead again for a work ethic unchained
the integer for Fiscal Stylus
has calculated that the user, you
are foul of our estimate, a ‘cut’ to £0. in a hole
known as a sanction through whom I see no bliss at all!
O wicked wall, fulminate mist jilted.
mudguards. in pith. sunk
woe I am to this wall's woe hole sealed
to dangle work upon the spy gash
& hunches consecrate & twist
all rime on felled sickle croaks
up liquid fiscal pricks
today the Ocean is buried
today death for garnets in pockets
today eat 5% now to your peace kindling,
today CSJ* has built an alliance on poverty
a fascist coiled inside my skin IDS trample in the rotunda
tomorrow skiver punnets long for ouroboros
make tackling poverty
in eat sick off red-tapeworms
known as a sanction for a heart of nothing
known as a large analgesic of my lanyard, wrapped
I have found myself crannied inside a hole 8pence thick
in autogas a Baron laid to rest
down the CNS you moved,
unclinking betwixt a billfold screed
so the Working Group members anonymity will recover
in your children's birthmarks
as to work dangle requirements
& out-of-work notches remain rended here now
& to be found in
& of compelling evidence
for the idea that money earned through work
carries more utility than money received
from Government & Opposition
O rift goaded to & go
waking least lowest most ragged
& dismissed of starred & pricked eyes
grown inward all valued tight
braid a rota somewhere in arm’s letter length
open the payroll or I will implode
&eat through a haze length of numbers,
sick on salvoWEB
countersign upon countersign
with ripped-out sprigs
here the coup de grâce
gently absent from fairest oak
approved Work-Force pedants made on
the cruellest woes
or most anxious heaves
at arm’s letter, water cannot be disconnected
said Work & Pensions but merely rerouted
in shame, gently accompanying
private waste doglegged eating my meniscus.
Mother has an Ovaltine & settles down
she does not say the word for
Harym, harm, as in roadblock
cracked to a kind of twilight,
an old as speculative chart made of rose equity
struck inside my throat
as a weak voice mutters under poverty porn
or an Orrery of this & the spy gash above me
a heretical nosedive incentive
after too much harm
work does not pay it concludes said Mum
Dr Stephen Brien, Nicholas Boys Smith David Godfrey
James Greenbury, Nicholas Hillmanm, Sara McKee, Dr Peter King, Lee Rowley, Debbie Scott, Corin Taylor
Linnean Society of London pecunia non olet
starved beyond work are rats carved on Haymarket Street
for a dynamic welfare state
by the Private Banking division of Lloyds Group
& we work to move away from permanent dependency
& to increase the affordability of the system
as in to ‘cut’ a hole 8pence thick
to Broad Street seeing through the eye
of algebra dead
in antitheses of the communal
as a golden song downturns
O excellent man, the true pattern of singular courage
& unparalleled enterprise, whose lot it was to be obnoxious
to fickle fortune, & suffer adversity with few intervals of prosperity!
That crypt Janis Dobbie* eats
is of red-tapeworm sanctioned her dead son
or bones blown into flag ended
in the undercroft for ended; smyth’d
for banisht; Iendeth
forgotten people screw in & be small & hard
glue fix disincentives a wider gap to cut
faint with gestures on undesirables
in our heart of hearts
the alteration of 8p unchained in my mouth kernel
carve out cut but to scar & a last
balanced arc of firebreak winds into
a sanctioned wreathe your head banned
for society inside a cash flow problem is
Dominic Raab inside Dominic Raab is
equality before law problem
the right to counsel problem
& the right to a fair trial problem
be hurting poorly targeted rapiers of the unemployed
gash this shuddering inside you
Dominic Raab is O wall, O sweet chink mine
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
lovely wall ground & mine!
the user you this is 8pence thick& of no bliss!
cursed minnow tears
again confound pay & we will do everything, work with anyone, overcome every obstacle in our path to jobs & prosperity & cast to ground
I am weary as the night rejected or decayed
I am 12 years old dead
allow us to design a coherent system
that deploys the vast welfare budget
I have always worked hard doglegged
& handed an (e.g. human) warmth
eaten on form-filling on drill bits have you tried
streamlining five practical measures
1. Death of chief wage-earner.
2. Incapacity of chief wage-earner
though accident, illness or old age.
3. Chief wage-earner out of work.
4. Chronic irregularity of work.
5. Largeness of family.
exit moonshine O workplace O my private light?
not applicable I seek death or reasonable
(e.g. human) warmth problem. clanks.
I am red in the face & its
sold at augury for chase,
while the destiny of you Dominic Raab
goes regrettably faint,
was that Sit-down Peter yes
sit down Peter (e.g. human) warmth
in 2008 I was 12 years old
inside a bin outside Lloyd’s bank
a disbursement of omens– who broke the stratagem –
who broke in 2008
(a) strategy
(a.ii) disarmament of ombudsman's
across the land forcing plight into a massive bust of Lenin
remember rescued from the former Soviet Union
at the end of the Cold War & located
in the village of Thenford in Northamptonshire
at the 70 acre estate belonging
to Baron Heseltine of Thenford
a canard into a stockbroker drowned
beneath me an invisible toll,
pointed Canary throttle the disappearance of oligarchy
to a houseboy theme philistine competition;
a billion at Lloyd’s
sticked in bits fell off or down or since
& hankering stopsI can think of worse ohms
to beautify under moonlight
abolish me belayed this ladder inside chambers
with nuance / to lose but a glossary
securely chain mailed honeycombed clapped
equals penalty for vespers
The Chartered Institute for Personnel & Development believes in nothing & hates everything
on a wrecked request finally
this sanction officer knows no bounds,
Dear Sir Justice
you know me I ought to know or have known
but as my last sick balance emits O i’ve tried drill bits
inside that wrecked close to skin
taken to ban thyself under the whole
data, personal, emotional irrational pellet
MD MSc MRCS MFOM
There Is No Alternative
as waste bins are caged & padlocked
food dies away from seeing
O, bloodwormed surround people hope is a better see SICKLED on a proboscis itch
lifelong scraped in abysmal score-print give me the green LIGHT looping hairpin itch
of mine reaping me now dog-legged
to an (e.g. human) warmth
&hole strickened as I sing aloud
from this lights edge is inscribed section 13.5
contained within yr contract,
the most vulnerable s(e)c(t)ion
where you underneath are lifted into a stratagem &
all the while egad clanks
without prejudice saved as to costs where the body bends to dictate the bean counter as my private light?
incised in halting vanes & extruded all
to a kind of mock light under camomile infusion
I brushed with ill feeling to turn from a direct line
of heraldic pine wood & self-mutter
into O lovely wall ground & mine delivered here by
TEN WAYS TO EXTEND COMPETITION & STRENGTHEN CONSUMER CLOUT
said pointmaker twitching by the lifting bar
a fourth step was added I did not see
& I have fallen back inside,
a claimants hole 8pence wide 6 foot deep
pricks my bleak croak inside
makes short work of sentry bot, protectron
& mister handy where death hangs as a perpetual referendum in which all vote pound by pound, day by day,
between countless goods & services
O dogholed & unnumbered referendum blunted
our torturing hour God hooked
this grim night Dominic Raab my glory holed
my dream holed my peepholed
turniped to bedevil his government &
not mine did chain nothing to nothing
tight in stifling light handed down upon the head
& to wait & to be inside your throats camera rig finally
to speak through you tenderly as you write
to the European Research Group your maiden speech
closing with the divine nature of your indignation
of the worst idlers in the world! to see the mucus plug of you streaked with blood to open to clanks
beareth ungrafted with worms & locus suds
O grim night again I break my teeth upon the ledger
hit a brick wall, grind down into the shape of a V prostrated &ask
what is a blue at Oxford?
(a) sickle prick spiking my chest chide, unhorned
(b) a twitching lesion of gullets
or (c) sealed to cough & look pale
Of a man
that night broke off on O'er government minded shit
increase the affordability of the system now
left in peril while my childer has unreturned
when William of Orange came to the throne
made me sick & blue in heart & mind
through a crannied hole a whispered sunk my earglow
I hold you here, root & all, in my hand
I hear you speak to my heart Dominic Raab
your tender broken voice
bequeathed of Dr Cahlloner's Grammar school, a choke
sapping my pleas as I tuneful enough talk about the job in a plausible manner, doomed on
cut myself wide by integer of Fiscal Stylus a hole,
of competition re-hangs to stick on your door i remaining
8pence widened O & on this halted night to live out
through spectral hands
& to duty tender & to take your places shiver
& to scorn did fall upon me covered below
for lust of your strength
so brazen under the frosted light
imagined tears that you detest & seek to kill dead
or mime or throw upon yourself in bladdered call
yelping out all the hate you bury glibly in your beaded eyes
a lust of strength to break all rime to cost
egad life for all life is measure broke Pareto efficiency & to be snapped &made into a signet
of your unalloyed brilliance &bedazzle of your histories past
carved out of eyries inside the body politic a body that
I ditch every night under gilded light
void me of all concentric curses,
the curvatures of isoquant
& of all the worlds rime felled in bloodless ears
to sing sweet your life's fever & shrill bitterness
will unreign & I seek death
& reasonable adjustments to my workplace immediately
o god on farced o go & do o god o o o god & in competences are a billfold bound & burnt
of (e.g. human) warmth
body clamps tight-ENDS-chamfered at the bit
my sick balance of (e.g. human) warmth
hangs onto that obscure point where the situation concentrates its law by clanks
fuck off
duffer. I am red in the face & its
a known 2008 carnation
the burden of employment regulation in the UK
has swollen six times over the last 30 years through its being at once sovereign & subtracted from all thought
spit in the gale of what might have been narrow, barren, rough, & unprofitable hoping, perhaps, to grace strangers who are both unworthy & ungrateful for the
sake of an island of silver hazard
the loss of one gold & what has been or to will be
more cruel, I. I Have Always Worked Hard
my tongue on ballcock itch prosperity
teeth sworn in brokers of dominium
you should be treated like
clamps in factotum a mock signal
how cloudbursts have been
& what has been new
an invisible toll for
guillotines I do not know.
other echoes
murderess, v-necked lemures
dig anti-fends & nattering hole stricken rouse
Margaret Thatcher’s graft. No.
Margaret Thatcher’s gramophone . No.
Margaret Thatcher’s grace. No.
three yobs in Margaret Thatcher’s grain. sunk
a knuckle in 2008 undated
for 36 yobbos of (e.g. human) warmth burnt venal
for the most dedicated fathom imagine
– who broke the stratagem – disclosed the most ridiculous
in 2008
I was 12 years old dead
scrapped to cheeks a lull for teeth inside
closed harmlessly thin &armfuls crossed stretched
within winters discontent
my fulfillment died in warehouses
in transept weary dog-tired &do you
slowly see through workshy off to weaponize
of weakening is heart-warming
do you live & work within enemy lives
your duff life spent on
that which died in warehouses
O blossom stiff lodged in flue
the pivot hole sticks again to you
in the rigid queues &always at minus
that on teeth to be willing to
& do you slowly see plied from squatting
creeps out of your luck
a lifetime under workhouse indices
you say under birthright
Peter Cruddas Baron Cruddas,
a tombola for a heart
no servant bids for you
turning dot on dot
in rigid & always at minus
that teeth creep out of luck
being what & as they are now
Boy Scouts into escaping when I speak to you
of vexations &vials we present now to one
another as no substructure
Cruddas, having been created Baron Cruddas, of Shoreditch in the London Borough of Hackney, was introduced & took the oath, supported by Lord Leigh of Hurley & Baroness Stuart of Edgbaston, & signed an undertaking to abide by the Code of Conduct crucifixion poised all stolen excursion
give us
the clock out of beat
where you use to hide
or ticktock, ticktock inside
at each putting deep cover & light cover
Peter Andrew Cruddas,
having been created Baron Cruddas, a cur
inside that common ailments are meant
heil downer raked to the groundsheet
of the Vote leave campaign in careless magnet have
summoned forth your child larynx/ C-M-C
you &your coinages to evade in wronging lists & teeth
today trampled in the rotunda a fascist coiled my skin
of Baron Cruddas sins
considered a manifestation of God's proof
& his atheistical carriage,
in unfaithfulness &stubbornness
caressing to become undone twisted
at the ordinances you wear a crown of thorns
to summon forth which we are led to mean
the actual slumping of your body forever
Baron Cruddas
inside the heart of the young
a crammed beat & crushed where you use to hide
when you were poor of common ailments
loosely dreaming a clock in a beat mine &put this
clock out of beat of Cruddas use to cry
inside alms a broken stitch
where you use to hide
or ticktock, ticktock inside
heirloom pummeled in gone thimbleful
to proud the varicose upon dead vows
a broken Clegg bite unstitched
with what hour it is rictus-pilled
to sentry decimal's erupting
IMMANETIZE THE ESCHATON OVER WHAT IS OUR HOPELESS WORK?
Baron Cruddas,
tomorrow closed for & filled
with desiccated incentives the whole darkness
into a medical restriction of the bold
rains to take for exclamation the xenophobias, the screens
ALL individuals (organisms) exist in a continually changing world of experience (phenomenal field) of which they are the superintended & I would like to be at the other hand
receiving the hardness of facing you transparent
to bore a hole as he was named
on swollen grave inconsequence
decided not to look inside
my crawling eyelids had their URLs
redirected in a silent creak of armaments
LORD BARON CRUDDAS
today of prerogative powers such as those relating to the making of treaties the defence of the realm, the prerogative of mercy & the granting of honours the dissolution of parliament is a flame to see inside again
the richest man in the City of London,
it stays there this eternal emblem of providence
& could be taken for granted is the body of special privileges & of freedom of arrest & access to the sovereign in a lower tribunal,
a hand dropped goes down to pay double
& 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, you said quid pro quo
& closed the door to ashes we cannot infer
& your spawn will bare the title The Hon'bles,
The strength, & the function of the Senses,
& other faculties change & fail
Peter Baron Cruddas,
I hunger despot tears in vermin tracery spoiled
over a colourless writhing
through the flue of your throat
clods separations with weighting points
prognosis variations, scatter graphs
whilst you are piss craved on bended knee
for Tory clubhouse insignias
uncircle this night of wetrooms
& desexualising ermine trimmed jackets
infected our uplands of suck & stoles
self-refund woodpiles & the laughter of burning
of fetish cries tip the edge of nothing
back bind this secured to night
from heart’s disguise,
strike down to my soul here
still on their cheeks,
whimper their way through
‘Abide With Me’
fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail & comforts flee,
help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away,
Change & decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
Eyes like in a bush of nettles
a loud scree Rishi a mothball belly collapses
I saw feral boys wandering
with cracked heads all reckless with stones
looks at me wide-eyed,
bewildered, drops onto himself in a pile,
stretches slowly out, crawls on
& things like that Dido Harding, you see her
after a cyber attack a Malware crash button Hepatitis B
or something revealing the details
of a million petalled faces falling as
anonymity is sacred Cedric, Epaulette, Falcon, Rochester,
Waterford, Yeastvite & Zara deboned
Cool Dawn My National Velvet
Dido Harding in the carbine ellipse mechanical
insects with black trunks that were told to
sting is anything representing a motorcade
hate ricked with a heart of shrapnel
our little empty lanyards dangle
out Serfton archangel partly swollen,
as hours never die soft
in a rentiers ring-a-rosie
& to all the broad acres
of Kennington Common downed formerly enclosing
with other armholes such as larch & paste
My hon.
landowner crimps menials
& tendon maturities plugged end to end
trespass on land & you will be kicked hard
one inch below the heart
two below the head
no doctor will console you
no doctor will defend your blood gargled hole
from overflowing in the corner your mouth
upon a blundered pane of glass
a mirrored grey sallow face appearing
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
as per Weatherley's law
non-residents terms were made, helmet sowed
in favour of c3orporate body that closed holes
big mass, heavy, dark,
was an enclosure was by those who acted together
was united in one person was before the sovereign
when any lord shall enter Parliaments chamber
to assign to him his place, according his dignity
& degree, to carry the ensign of said order
for the offence of abstracting electricity,
or climbing through an open window
knocked the maximum sentence or
cordoned scrap my die-sinker
you revel in & say
the plans are ready & the builders fingers
are itching but the old corroding saying
we must work closely with local enforcement authorities
my eyebrows drop on rubber truncheons
Who is dead, who feigns death not to be dead?
& it is late & my soul is dark pavements I leaned against,
looked in.
My hon. Fiend will
throw pails you shied away from
smiling quietly for you I tear a balance sheet
to leave a property within 24 hours
a hole as big as tenpence
the glass my eye hurts, like
full of sand. Splinters. Well trained insects.
We crawl away, towards the hall, & lay still. That
was narrow. Just around our heads.
flat on your belly. Up the stairs
"You must phone the Army, to have them
repair the window, tell them that I am not
doing anything! . . .
"Did you hear the Army radio ?
Mumbles unconnected things. Looks
me in the face as if he didn't recognize me.
Keeps clicking away, stops, looks around with
a blank expression of te r r o r .
a warm face of daily life &
the coalesced pain is unbearable.
