Margate
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
