Wednesday 22 November 2023

in what kind of country is this (CIVIL RECOVERY)


Outside Langham Place 

sans consentement  

in Corsham stone the nuptials of 

god & god the Stone 

beneath volutes 

Justice 4 Fathers Spidermans 

half suspended with daughter’s guitar

‘In the Name of The Father’ by Bono, 

the Trafalgar Groves, the Victory Footprint

Link sculpture with its panoramic viewfinder

in what kind of country is this, 

class fatalised Bowellism the sick rose 

winedrunk on broadloom Pushkin floor 

threshed red my broken words 

held up by a friend 

there are Steinways to follow 

seraphs on Brooke street,

it's the colour 

between my thawed gurgles 

that really matters

& London is the centre of wicker fence panels

its river territory is broken  

the last firebreaks of a leaseholder 

coastguard hanging under Blackfriars Bridge 

to starry rushes chainfated

what deposit slot rolled 

my cobblestones glom faced, 

outside Automatic Hydraulic 

anti-terror bollards  

in the event of a loss of power

non-sector chaperones 

allowing the ingress of cool air,

with warm air flowing out through two tall vents

which form wings that mirror each other, 

public & private bokes all set to chrome 

it’s underlight schisms humming 

on the Laws balustrade.

In what kind of country is this? 

 Estate Asset Management Limited

shining sleeves scraped from every pore

will cost nothing

laid upon its roof

burning day into your eyes rising

the stone of the plaza

in every living sign street corner

public-space gurus lock the doors

in Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton rooms

Live Below The Line, 

& what will you do Alfie Deyes

with the cadres of flashbacks,

reliving of 

the downside

of nostalgic austerity 

for 20 minutes 

teeth cleaned tassel loafers 

readily circling each crutch

you know you have to die for a rebirth?  

Cauldron burning London's   

a collared plinth of Blair's demotic 

glades,, now this is Bang at Sportcity 

searching Utopia through a pipeline

middle english bullclipped

I chide Culture & Values Enterprise 

I ate your withered dinner tie

with Amarone & vetched Gillespies  

the Plateau, the Field, the Garden agenda  

filled & felled w/ MSM 

will manage material deprivation 

for the next life,, in a gala of dystopian domes

Logan's Run & fucked erotics

of cement block aides empty man-creditors

of my desire for the wrecking

in multi-use pause areas

cascading frozen stars! 

with stones running from Lee Bridge

canting Angleterre bouillante.