Tuesday 9 August 2022



Aged 15, xed the patted divan 

from the converge of the Swale 

to the death of serpents

on laurels over hard mortar 

The Sanctuary Lodge 

and its laminated CV’s 

gaffered to municipal bins 

all demountable shuttering 

on piloti buried podiums 

I mixed pounded pebbles

with scrim coinages & TC’s

near Garlinge dirge 

nothing really is nothing here

its cranked glazing calcined 

flint DREAMLAND the soft strip

is asbestos holding it aloft to 

Stephen Christopher Yaxleys 

old panoply of grimoires

or are we now inside 

a viable regeneration project

now bowing lowly down 

to No council FALSE TEETH 

in large green letters

the name of my enemy 

is you in stage whispers 

my rent arrears my causal shifts 

gross upreared the Miles and Barr Staff 

shelling Paul Weller shireboys 

in aggregate crud the cockle table rots 

Bollingers from bottom to top

on natural power float concrete floors 

non absorbable hearts of RIBA architects 

under Arlingtons glow demolition squad

its cliquish, gossipy parochial pewter 

colour cash chubs 

your starved bleeding coke 

nose harroped to spakenreuz 

rosy mythed by mums 

I’m locked out on Princes Street 

in macadamed light had to break in

this awful place is 

unhealed left hanging in the air 

sargassum stone piered out

to hawthorn three minuscule mussels 

adhered to hackle and piss next to 

custom-built victorian bathing machines

its bandits birched to hush in 

Faded Terracotta Rich Colours 

by Farrow & Ball 

gentle shores holm oaked  

a significantly higher mental depression 

here ‘soil taken from it 

to any place whatsoever

kills snakes there’ 

said a Thanet council spokesman 

as the Margate Members Club 

cavort pearl named 

body gyres whisperless prannets 

encircle the cold of this crap flat

for the inner lining of my heart

is flint retrieving stolen secret scrims 

kept in your infected areas