Yaxley barbs on any Ray Hills
unprovoked I am not allowed to live here
calling on your fingers
I must hear loudly the vetches of headlands
fall on my body, white cramps my spine what
these vassalages work
I do not know how
I was covered in ice
& gone suddenly
to their own pathological fantasies
churned by crooks that had me
inside half-fraternising
counter conspiracies against me circling
of their own stitious worlds subterraneous
cults that polity, protected you
when the underworld emerged
& dominates the sane into
the children of the Devil
the next exorcism I call it...
The Killing of my Person
staked thereupon I take my leave of sanity &
create ferment, discord, & hostility
the public mind minims the melee
of nameless felonies
have harnessed them all to task
Q.E.D watertight little containers immitude
& the rise of armistices, submissions
have forced the sky to end
& minds of endless apostasy
yet mine is not sitting by idly,
for how can evil be passive?
scheming to create
new geopolitical units, stealth hybrids?
on the rim acquis in amongst
satin rose petals every cell & gene
the EU devotes all the passionate fervor
of a senile lover who sacrifices
to his lust the ultimate shadow
of an illusory dignity
on every tangled Groupthink
hauling everything is finally lost
under aegis of unknown
stoned plighted Morals & Kingdom
the Strong, the Righteous & Invincibility
to be the minutes of a
secret meeting scrawled
into palaces & City Walls
a stock of petrodollars
fall into my hand like snow
from the counterpane
if we are not careful
we shall be glad to die
as the skin culture reruins
& murders all in total predation
discovers its new living hell
& slander kills my dead name
dead this not-dying Yaxley in arms,
that have borne & changed
no less than five times
raging in the morning
marked with a sprig of acacia
the last of the legitimate street protest groups,
while the Cultural Marxists have machetes
in their fucking eyes
& my insides itch a small fraction
of this code for the onslaughts of our enemies
inside a poll tax demonology
a mere night arranged for Darwinism,
Bookmarks & flesh of pedos glued
the torpedoes heavier than life itself
monitoring the renege of the press
in our hands prepares the ground
the weapons in our hands
prepares the ground
limitless merciless vengeance,
prepares the ground
hatreds & malice
prepares the ground
& it is from us
that the all-engulfing terror proceeds
& class struggle sometimes you think
but a broken peril loans
a version as it guzzles
precious & horizontal
& do I remember an English society
in macadamed light a kinder sky!
of socially engineered dust bytes.