Monday 22 April 2024

‘I just want my property back’ (DRFT/UNFINISHED)

Painted pink from pole to pole 

the oubliette Drop City 

boardroom stilts accidental vistas, 

shuttering on The Boom’s Last Word

ideas for a footbridge abiding 

Glencores greenwashed 

& the final Fatal Tree

made from copper-nickel alloy

bling encased sheer profligacy 

Long yen gelded estuary nattering 

unfencibles for king’s head 

to keep land inviolate yob-ended 

plant life cubic grey urban

open lapwing wet asphalt 

beautifies out all the quiet zones 

faces on the job search 

for a hope bigger than 

a boxed in visage

you bend to gapping stars 

rime goes opaque in

air of ruckling counterpanes 

rent-off this mortised rim city allies

peel under Leadenhall antiquated 

think-tanks welch a Union Jack 

on piled biscuit tins from Cherry-Garden 

a last sigh of mobbed lettings 

nothing much left now 

but a saturnalia bough 

as high as uninhabitable 

an opportunity area digs 

itself rond-points; overwork death

in the royal parks surviving 

a tortured lie link by link 

jerked star-draught  bewitching the 

stimulus lament, forlorn pale white ash 

the husked perimeter mystagogy

of we work Aviation house 

kicks me down Kingsway  

the feeling effects of downdraught 

sprawled office blood its horizon 

keysteps sung from this bed of 

knocks,,  a diagram of our life  

murdered on with cotched 

bramble beds head gripped the lamina 

outside my sublet sinecures 

& read what little legal entitlement 

we have this unleavened cake

a place you cannot be seen? 

in the universal system

of pauperism take panacea soliloquy, 

squeeze the plughole 

look you have been forgotten 

In One Nation Britain

washed hollow-lob 

rentiers breathe culture of dependency 

bent to prime shrill

egad Argyle socks & shitflickers 

the phenomenon of humanisation –  

thrust up rigid light against your skin  

to see through bits of you 

on night’s fall for ambuscade 

tangled in the rigging 

of it is widely flown ownership 

a stand-alone flag 

within the territory 

on one knee & now on the other,

from their leafy vantage-tops 

observing my heart undoing nap-pods 

the dark vertical gardens 

of County Hall scoured 

into Shrekworld countermanding 

last minute memo the viewing corridors 

over capital panorama risoed 

the termination of hope 

on hybrid glass hill-edged,

jack-spiked in brownfields.  

City id buried strata of contamination 

another kind of heat a zone within a zone; 

a cylinder of How Shall I live?, 

are shadows for sale again, 

The London Plan where 

the secret parts of us 

between the uprights camouflage-net

turned intolerable 

gone to pieces and not pulling

gilly-flowers the world falls apart

grey wealed earth not faulted evictions 

 ‘I just want my property back’

in a toxic pyramid with arsenic & mercury.