Tuesday 25 July 2023

Moritz Erhardt (re-edit 'flashes of British Gypsum')


  Moritz Erhardt

anticonvulse & the Sun’s Sun, 

suffer the opposite 

out a block of flats near Cambridge Heath, 

suffer the opposite, in the midst of the rising

from a streetcar, four hours of work, 

meal, sleep, quadrilateral, a square of clemency 

the Gray code.

 A psychoanalyst & a life coach walk into a room. 

an intern washes, puts on a fresh shirt & re-emerges 

blinking in the dwarfing light. Start again

sprawled across the shower floor,

 the water still running.  Hearts of Oak. 

decomposing are members of the Orthodox Conservatives, 

the Bow Group or Turning Point UK, is

waiting for nothing but leaks out in the middle 

of the meeting table, 

Gekko Grundgesetz

to climb without oxygen 

to walk without eyes 

behind black oval you read 

‘The Economic Possibilities for Our Grandchildren’

by John Maynard Keynes from a stapled balcony 

overlooking a chilled wind blowing off the Elbe,, 

a karoshi Quisling at the Faust-Gymnasium 

to half empty bodies, half dead &

that I should be yours, & obediently true

so against the merry go round

coloured with cuts, that I was 

your drowned trend, 

a paling sweet face 

begins with an itch, corrected speech 

corrected Yaxleys & did not die. For freedoms

naivety & vulnerability 

& to still not die & paedo dearest 

correct kept patriot cuts

to poor feeling fathers

Weisse Gestatten: Elite

The morning after the Korova Bar meeting,

a complementary perspective collapses

in a pailing of watered lilies, nothing else happens 

Monotherapy Hierarchies Premium Fridays Dark Sites, 

a gentle wind moves uninjuring your arms & legs 

a sweet tingling feeling your skin turns red

or pale pink under ‘Resilience Week’ 

confines you at the bottom 

inexplicably are meal provisions fitness amenities 

& the alphahoods crimp best 

when the brightest karoshi is in a snare.  

Sliding through generation time 

sovereigns anonymous extra mile,;

a battleground lost 

& the skies spark & die with zephyrs

& the city interns burn a magic roundabout 

under spruced buds

picked by a vote whose dead hole

now leads in-itching flaked white skin

to prevent roosting 

the flashes of British Gypsum,  

teethwet brogues cut the bough.