Margate
Aged 15, x’ed the patted divan
from the converge of Swale council
to the Death of Serpents tail,
the laurel over hard mortar &
Sanctuary Lodge is laminated
with CV’s on piloti buried podiums
mixed pounded pebbles
with scrim coinages & TC’s
near Garlinge dirge.
Nothing really is nothing here
its cranked glazing calcined
DREAMLAND soft in asbestos
holding aloft all the
Stephen Christopher Yaxleys
like old panoply of grimoires
& We Are Inside
Regeneration Project,
its Formica Stagecoach Souter
gleams it’s finale
FALSE TEETH
on Nayland Rock Shelter,
in stage whispers facedown
eating floret patrons
with pilled lunar shards
to be nowhere.
Miles & Barr Boys swilling linctus
acres of briefcases & toeboxing
Paul Weller's all shirebussed,
tucked & milkfed from Mum to Bed,
dropping Bollinger after Bollinger
on natural PowerFloat Concrete floors,
Estate Agency Award Ceremony
is my nature, & I chant advocates names
like an incant over cockle rot tables
seawind hard creamed
what beckons archfiends
the gilt-hearted RIBA Architects
maker of maps, gutter of towns,
as Arlingtons floodlights a failsafe,
the meaning demicurls a clique
cash coloured chubs New Jerusalem,
Skincare Branded
Victorian Bathing Machines
in Farrow Ball Terracotta Rich Colours
the body gyres whisperless prannets
encircle the cold of this crap flat
& coke starved noses harropdown
bloody staircases in spastic crosses
paid by Canters of Tory England,
‘soil taken from it
to any place whatsoever
kills snakes there’ holm-oaked
inverted the petal torch is theta
said Thanet council spokesman.
