Thursday 15 February 2024

For B.S (draft)

Stupid working class Kent scum

I’m the lumpen denominator, 

signed austerity into

12 stars over my eye 

a technical ripstop

Made in Italy Cocoon shaped

in the morning beating matchsticks

out of your head to gentler fingerdust  

banderole canting       

Angleterre bouillante

on one leg burrowed in 

annuities, solstices, sanctuaries, woes 

breakthrough heart my brassic

in wiping off at the diadem floodlights 

tonight a social totality 

lies outside me, again thorned

around dead fens being dead. 

The underclass discussed 

on mumsnet 

Do we have one? Why?

Who or what is responsible?

When did it all go wrong?

Answers on a postcard 

frontier spirited Rosewood 

Calf Leathers kick me down 

this gangway job pissed town 

is yours in a sports bags, 

the Empire strikes back  

on rattan rabid 

its world of elegance  

& charm kneed high O

leave my aching brain

pennies in jowl linoleum canceled 

to granny’s grey gnomes 

painted white brambles

melancholia hammers, 

beautiful wires, clemencies

rolled up on goldenrods 

pity with Black-eyed Susans 

& rust on toolhead Brook, 

rolls over my head

to wash pressed down bitters

engram after milligram 

below ground, 

nerve colonnades to prigs 

I had turned back

to scatter in the grass 

milkstar flowerose for home 

is in luglow iring on mattresses in Kitchens 

a hole Turret stone,

my pinpricked chest 

hallows iron darts try my back 

its free cheap space, of claret rage  

with emerald tuck smeared at Penarth 

unsoldered to crosstongue 

chirrup centres enterprise 

white hankies inside Veolia 

bin lures said.