Outside Langham Place
sans consentement
in Corsham stone the nuptials of
god & god the Stone
beneath volutes
Justice 4 Fathers Spidermans
half suspended with a 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 sick rose
winedrunk on a broadloom Pushkin floor
threshed my words red
held up by a friend
there are Steinways to follow
& afters are seraphs on Brooke street,
it's the colour between thawed gurgles
that really matters
& London is the centre of wicker fence panels
its river territory is broken
the last firebreaks hang
under Blackfriars Bridge
to starry rushes chainfated
what deposit slot rolled God's Bank
for cobblestones glom faced,
Automatic Hydraulic anti-terror bollards
make stakes in the event
of a loss of power
non-sector chaperones
allow 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 Laws balustrade.
Is this?
Asset Management Limited
shining sleeves scraped
from every pore
& costs nothing
laid upon its roof
burning day into your eyes rising
the stone of the plaza,
in every living sign
public-space gurus lock the doors
in Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton rooms screening
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
collared plinth of Blair's demotic
French 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 & cement blocks empty man-creditors
of my desire for the wrecking
in multi-use pause areas
cascading frozen stars!
canting Angleterre bouillante.
