Nothing produced on him
a disc of omissions,
your mothers disappearance
Sir James Ritblat (reticulated),,
your mothers disappearance near a Hertfordshire airfield
10 nautical miles John agitatrixs
hurdling a 7 per cent annual cut
10 nautical mothers to the laxey
billfroth long with memories
& then there were none but fathers
decimals lie in bed late at night watching old comedies
such as Only Fools & Horses, Porridge & Carry On films.
‘That’s my humour,’ Senior Ritblat titters out:
‘I’m much happier going to sleep with a smile on my face.
But… it isn’t the same. Since we have lost Tiny in an airplane …
we shared the Cots in clubbing faith
& now she's gone, but all is not lost.’
Trailing wave two fingers at British Land,
PLC holy-stricken Corporate Governance
buildings are bricks & mortar, to be bought & sold
& the drooping floors are a sinking chorus
of imperium hard-ons to safeguarding lineages
under opaline light portfolio canopies
maw the strongbox to a wrathless tongue,, a keynote
like nothing under heaven.
Sir John,
You are now part of the Post-Boom years
on a hill near a farm in Wimpstone, Warwickshire.
In Teletubbyland, the hillocks are flooded with blood
to make a coin tower made up of six billion penny pieces
its starred out in a tiara
on the head of this fabulous city.
‘He’s just like Prince Charles,’ said an analyst.
fondling cuff-links nervously
up the Cupronickel Ponte Giardino
& down with our enemies,
to Get Living bind dewy bades the rents brightest
when culled darkly, naked & afraid in the street
along the whole 127 Mile city
turned inside-out to salvage at least one cobbled hill
to twist about a living good & uncommit
the Malicious Damages Act
inside a Ritblat spawn
a neurotically protected citadel of the undead
amenities fall out a glass atria
inside a Big Yellow Self-Storage
big sheds big plastic-clad buildings,
a Rubik’s Cube steel column
narthex John, your daughters cursed
word-lists, a birthday,
light bulbs draped through the grounds of the party
FTSE100 live camels, monkeys, & Vintner commodes,
a tent with a gold sign beaming
1 # ‘Ritblat Family Circus’
to cater for every whim like beating frogs to death
in the midsummer evenings
remembering the feeling
on that river the view was undying
under the elder tree
rendered a Michael McIntyre
on hand to provide the jokes
the bitten toxins:
The most elusive of creatures
is a right-of-centre millennial
breaking over the White Cliff of Dover,
a Non-virtue signaller. Zero snowflake credentials.
English Identitarian. No Surrender.
‘people aren’t even real’ giggles Ritblat,
& all the forms & images in the world can be revoked
remembering your childhood
your infant light, John
James an inkling of Law for general purposes;
& ambuscade the Alpha Plus Group changelings
smug the dowerage in Lethe-swamps
& play British Virgin Islands,
of prairie grasses & weeping willows,
a short furlong in length of a Blast Shadow
three solid armrests & yours, a manacle slithers
cold inside steel mullions
that become suddenly blinding
into stranded lugfails v-shaped,
a single curved petal
made of copper shining to biff weaning
eyes behind scattergraphs &
a hymn went away
the sun also rises
in every whispered word
a body lies in a boules pitch, in stables,
in a tennis court, in an underground swimming pool
when the flames spread radially
around petals & all were alight,
stems rose slowly from the gaping
floorboards peeling upright
with a single massive flame
a sacred gasping light clap went around
the anvils of my tears & ask
the right people in the right place,
that calls all hearts to emulate £20.00
as it ceases; & ceases filling us with
divisions, confusions, & tumults
opposing One Elephant
snopake’d with powdered glass
manja line down
the floor which force breaks
but a sinkhole increases daily
the very touching pass
under heavy mercury vapour
its greenish white
the Central Management Office
you go in ATM’s come out
like arachinards from silver poisoned breath
cutting skin without blood gradually,
a chest without air, eventually
slackening thin to stomach,
thinning in around the dimming glass
& to hash for life at night
somewhere near or close the groundsheet slights
pieces together the care password is StampCall* 112
the futures floors to be clutched under
a roof garden, a café, a ‘breakout room’
closing six billion penny pieces
to a steel gavel,,
a sound as you appeared,
your families growing trespasses
to maggle in their own shape
in a heap a Ritblat in public
reversed your bilking lapse with HMRC,
culled slow to auspices & the engrams abstracted
TOTAL FUNDS you evade in the plenary room
under stolen madrigals brigged like blockades
remembering again
a mothers disappearance,
through glen perishing eyelashes,,,
beds down your throats burrow,,
a pros & cons
the painful frenzy
of bloody palpitations
to survive twisting leopards bane
devils helmet, the queen of all poisons
on parricided come downs
burns a starry mark or padded path
the most watchful mother
to wallbang this scythe
scathing a Ritblats bower,,
making hematoma flowers
permanent, sweet, long lasting
in history minims
limited companies the quietest imagined regicide
a whirligig inside10 nautical miles
agitatrixs 10 mothers twitching
your penalties by finger blocks, Sir Johns
alms to the Adelphi Genetics Forum
of milk based eugenics
& the cyanosis of a wall
are pales a place for no-one cilled jambhead
& Eddie Stobarts Class Alliance
rises the famed ginger group, The League of Empire Loyalists
as it dissolved or merged with Rheinzink hollowed
72 habitable floors that YouGov poll found
eight out of ten people
agreed to a depressed apex in the head,,
in ginnels in ennogs in snickets
from public amenities 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,
under teethwet brogues
to cut the bough
