Wednesday 15 December 2021





“Health is a state of 

complete physical 

mental & social 

well-being not merely 

an absence of disease & infirmity” 

World Health Organization 

So your nervous tab slips razor blades 

into heads & from the gate 

scabbing brocades 

& the fumes from fingernails tenderly gibbetted

grease , the odour of burning cloth

whilst wiping clean the breaking joint

the fact that we stand on grids to gorge

for nine hour solder B trepanning 

blood circles ;strange ,as bedfellows 

again & bad lighting illegalises eyes to warming 

& sworn in PPE 

(for eyelets, made this earmarks stitched to mouthholes etc.) 

that scrim & stand unbroken, 

our unavoidably seizured arms, 

the TUC doctor was not available 

reason being he had more pressing

engagements; &

it was not his job anyway, but 

but the City chuckles collapsed 

into turbulent tectonics of 

kidney shaped abscesses

curling black lids fading shells

little impish gentleman in grey, to be melted

from the grease , the odious cloth

chokes poison to your bone marrow 

with shrill laughter in throat 

& weakening of our hands & hearts; 

fill­ing us with divisions, 

confusions, tumults, & every eviled workfare; 

O I rest under apron 

it’s OK ate daily the scabs 

rolled & what they shadowed; pinkish

fumes to fumes

fingernailed tenderly & incise 

without finger-posts, without mouthholes 

marked dead or pneumatic chiseled ! without

 just by living in a town or city

 a faces vanishes  over twisted glimpses,      

  their jargon Official Analysis is 


     as wrenching ammonia, 

tar & benzene the whole summed air 

a thorax simmers

daydreaming at home, 

feeling unwell, maybe drunk or breathless, 

or burning. of  nausea & itching 

O dry spirit rebury a binder of moulds, 

burst all in pieces afterwards 

ploughed up & go on* **********







*we possess  declining, many branches are, we

forward, struggling to find a way

what is not

our function 

in the stock


;in British industry in feeding decibels just as 

not to be mangled, burnt on Information sheets 

heeled out to tell us 

the future is disorder sealed in magic lamps

as bad news bangs for everyone 

&the scale of enterprise falls, 

so does the potential for sabotage 

&blackmail in the workplace

SOS starred strange as bedfellows

, the normal logarithmic pulse 

kept running all costs, 

get polythene PoP

(inflammable) stretch it over our heads 

tie it with a bit of string this type of

thing is highly dangerous &

it is always that or die

it is always to red gush their catalyst anomies 

that or die

& The Organic Supernanny Knows Best

as only mantra is: ‘The best time to buy 

is when blood is running in the streets’ or 

to be mangled, burnt, & docked I


lore us; spectral Keith Josephs failing with radiant closeness 

failing of someone intangibly

now gone &even the

Arch-Bishop of Canterbury old as daylight, 

waving & smiling & moving on to fade

& calling all hearts to emulate 

 to escape,d surround; of blood

of my chair; the back of a 

purge pulls suspension clauses there




a) They reduce your

common life

b) They kill inside & never deliver full restitution 

 The meeting


promised they would be paid.

on the misery of ambiguity & forced pretense

on the misery of not being a cause

on the misery of not feeling entitled to one’s misery

on the misery of knowing that one is doing harm