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.
