Tuesday 11 June 2024

"In this house we believe Peter Mandelson Went Mad"


Mill ennui begins by toxic draffs

soil burdened with arsenic & mercury 

near the access point a large white marquee 

underinking lauded codas & coiffed fingers 

burnt plastic tetches off 

remade this cloud 

shrinking to some super-totem 

inverted fascia running off teflon, 

it’s faintly baited linchpin

burgundy bottles with regimental ties for wicks 

the Molotov Prince of Darkness Astras speaks: 

Moving forward as a beacon to the world,

the richness of the British character. Ergo.

Creative. Compassionate.

Outward looking.

A triumph of confidence over cynicism,

boldness over blandness,

excellence over mediocrity. 


One harped, cupola withering blimp 

settled at the mouth of the peninsula, 

a vanished complex tangles  

to dragging strays over shingle 

what invented future means 

in shining leaden water, 

back under Enterprise Culture

its scrying glass extruded 


the last Council-Operated High-Rise 

contains within itself indemnified 

& everyone is left on carcinogenic marshes

& what mild oath unrevoked 

the Committee members haircut 

congealed in Tip-EX 

& the Sun dances 

just like in the moonlight 

O & when that moon is big & bright 

it’s a supernatural delight, 

when everyone is dancing in the moonlight!

Molotov Astras people sized 

& you go down with the building inside

you’re holding the bottle at its neck, 

you chuck it hard at the window, 

at the base Index Multiple Deprivations, 

a regional quota breeds out vapour trails 

Public Consultations Hedonic Pricing

'area-based' factors 

& marching people to jobs with two witnesses

a task force courtesy call in reference 

to your wellbeing,,

pulling together data 

from a common baseline, you

a common heart of what means-tested 

peaks depart a private world, closing gaps

yours, a private cause 

& other indices waivering 

molotovs the Final Report 

fealty chokes

hard indicators of change

& sorry is the hardest word  

but you learn from your mistakes remember 

the architecture of moonlit colonnades, 

the custodial moonlit amphitheaters, 

the moonlit night-club interiors 

as disinterred by Edwin Lutyens 

on old drugs & re-thought as a underground bungalow

& exit into anti-ligature moonlit prisons 

with calico print on the walls

elbows in the topiary garden 

dancing a low octane hallucination

around flight you can feel it

when that moon is big & bright 

under plastic-clad buildings 

the stated aims of TMO’s 

Client aspirations 

cantilevered platforms 

narrowing logarithmic scales 

where you go to grow concrete? 

as flashes of your behavioural map discrete 

micro-billeted polymers 

that count as a skin

new entrepreneurials again

but the best picnics are on Agars Plough, 

& how could you forget massive gazebos 

& Moët out the proverbial bucket! 

the tête-à-têtes in the garden; 

shelters on the grouse moor,

a nice isocost in the eyrie

blood coursed through 

the night rain opposing

the broadfields beneath them 

its private equity in brownfields 

to cashflow cowabunga 

 & there are perks in 

chains of lead you can feel it

a life, strategic planning 

I feel a certain pang inside my chest

 see  a  hole  as  big as  tenpence  

Names  emerge undisclosed

And the  pain  grows  spec­ifically apart ,

localised ,   around the  heart, 

or the  stomach,  or the  lungs

curls to city point lights 

listless bullrings 

‘at the heart of’     

more police more green spaces  

more police more green spaces  

more police more green spaces  

more police more green spaces  

kettling a sky lounge 

45th floor bar-kitchen: 

 Arrows with solid lines represent 

the statistically significant paths, 

and broken lines to show 

the nonsignificant paths.

Explained in the Results Section, an innovative 

affordable housing company tightens 

its halogen light to snuff path 

its model of n.b. no hope 

no kindred place behind gates 

a ramified lanyard, 

a front desk company 

finger filed red to business premises 

 all these unscathed plods 

in utero caning 

the height of a crown

& how can love 

be a steel pergola?