One leg in annuities, solstices, sanctuaries, woes
breakthrough my heart is dumb brassic
in wiping off at the diadem floodlights
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?
a more vengeful revanchism remainder
of emptied pockets,
tough on, spitting yob burnished
tongue into a sharp relief
a 10-point code of conduct
the dictates by squeegee
winos ‘mole people’ footloose
brig adders wriggle out
in virid pilule seedbed
morsicatio buccarum sans reveries
& you work in the midnight purpling hue
that tips the stars to be lug imminent
a dream covered nothing foaming
its boiling common
gentler sounding fingerdust
& the Russell Group firebrands
in spirited Rosewood Calf Leathers
kick up the earth, momentums return
this job pissed town is yours
in a sports bag drawn from gas
that leaks out peeling skins
cancel the remains
in a Quango fortified,
stock-brick-clad
ground-floor blast walls
scratching the edge forevermore &
The post-Good
the Era Two is more optimistic,
its spec boasting holes a ‘Transversal Space’,
made to see out of boathouse nomads
under marine primer ditch the keycard,,
ditch key fob,, ditch the key chain,,
pitted with illuminated water features
hear liquid patter of a fountain’s droplets
over the hum of a not-too-distant
business district winding down
plastic art planted in concrete
a twelve-foot anchor
in treacle-like gloss paint;
old parasite gates
micro segregation blood fielding
to Marina developments
the sugar pill, —the clerical sales,
construction workforce, mixed-use
drivers vandal-proof lights O
wrenched quiet to my scrying
door plate, post paralysis hands
the ringworm got me to
curse my outlook, rusted into
the Urban White paper Urban Renaissance
BioMed Centre identikit corporate detailing
the quoin metal black bile & actual slogans
around our heads into a buzzword
of tearing. ON. nothing Londinium
shilled in nights red wrapped tunic sky
12 stars over my eye
a technical ripstop Made in Italy Cocoon shaped &
landscrapes pulls away dead chainlink
‘I want to be the best.
I want to do my own thing.
I want to excel.
I want to go to the gym.
I want to study business law.
I want to see West End shows.
I want business sponsorship.’
Green grow’th the holly
So doth the ivy