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–We’re going to do an ambush, yeah!
–Yeah! see that there? that's an HA flag that
there that's the Hddflag but they’ve disguised it
so you can’t recognise it
–black and red though, isn't it!
–yea black and red so you can’t recognise it
–I’m just going to go in and ask
for some awkward books, so they can’t recognise
me just wait 3 minutes isn’t that long, 2 minutes
3 minutes…isn’t that long is it
–so they can’t recognise
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Opens door
–Excuse me sir?
Have you got a copy of Enemies of the State? no…no
or Muhammad’s Quran? No..maybe..No
or Tommy Robinsons Muhammad’s Quran?
Bollocks
–Corbynist pedophile lovers
–Pickering fucking pedo scab. Traitor?!?
Do you have no books on Gramsci?
Do you have no books on pedophilia?
violent fascist communists I demand all the books
on pedophila here now in my hand!
pickering on my
recurrent flashing my ,
heart rate you scalded
to be kept in —they’ve disguised so you can’t recognise
look at this clopping shit massive giant cloud
my frozen tongue my lunar light
the future is society
breaking into bruised life
Bollocks
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today, why don't you leave the planet?!!,!?
no books so you can’t recognise
they’ve disguised it
your mind is broken your mind
is fucking broken articulate a sound,
a feeling a sensation Pickering bin of lillies
that is my feeling Pickering
shut down for hatred
my feeling
my hate as it criminalises
I refuse to plead I demand all the books
on pedophila here now
pickering on my
recurrent flashing my ,
country is bleeding to death.
Bollocks
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The lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
he leadeth me into green pastures
the sun also rises as an act of habit
or estimating
worth during an interspace
of habit estimating better times
when the flames spread radially
around petals and all were alight,
stems rose slowly from the gaping
floorboards peeling upright
with a single massive flame
a sacred gasping clap went
around the anvils of my tears,
The country I love is bleeding to death.
Deliberately I refuse to plead to pedos
& is alive beneath the surface
of the skin or dead tissue
there are some places left to die there are some people left to die
Look you fucking corbynite
life has tired out in rings of shite
enter the pantheon of folk music
enter at the end of a night
to touch my intimate nerve as it coils
round a call for vanished faces
and everywhere becomes suddenly birdsong
and morning doves and the dirt beneath my feet
bodkin points
through my lashing tongue
sticks me here to the seven nation army generation
as it passes away
another generation cometh
in this earth abideth forever
the queen of england
the Corbynosphere.
A river running alongside everyone
paid in golden sovereigns
no one was ill or died
the weather was perfect
and you could get 200 pints of bitter
for a quid
in a bushel the English National Dance
is Boomps a Daisy, the war has ended
the water has been
drained and filled in with
flowers! oh! & our boys never left home
they worked hard and made do with nothing
Sixtus Dominic Boniface would hold the annual coconuts shy
we would all be burning the European Maritime Safety Agency manifesto.
The country I love is bleeding to death,
but they’ve disguised it so you can’t recognise it
a mantel of suet patsy, a soft touch
we use to beat frogs to death
O' old glories of the palaestra
in the midsummer evenings remember
the river the games field
the view was undying;
rushes by the water every day in sotto voce.
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