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Tuesday, 14 January 2025

Giddy Carousel (Draft)



The word ‘curry’ first appears from a cookery book during the reign of, I think it’s Richard II, 13th century

Nick Griffin

 

As I write, highly civilized human beings are flying overhead, trying to kill me.

George Orwell




Airbrushed minarets for sacred lands

comment is free at the 

White Nationalist Grievance Party

to stick a knife in you 

the circumference of a peck, or me

hilt point cursing the Cenotaph

dragged under martenside

in Oakham rain shining purple acetate

for that which blows up your wife & kids

get buried in flowers Floodgate

marches & to be kindred again

this islands country of Union Jacks

over biscuit tins Cherry-Gardens

white posts, Pederasty & English Sans serif 

smug on mugs & tea towels 

you accumulate in Polka-Dot tins 

enmities against me well-placed bombs 

from evil purged tears Angstzonen 

Lionhearts lone luminous halo

parvenus march of black shirts

future militants doublemeant decayed 

Britannia Unchained & the ridges of 

Rent Ability near Albion Gates 

pickerings terrible to see Gadarene

a body Pegida drinking tea; God save

its Overton window sinking the sil

that poor soldier laid in anti-Blimps

closing ranks rented off this mortised rim 

for you & me, Royal British Legion 

Poppy Cross Wreath Type D 

& the final fatal tree 

Fusilier counter nisus death ceremonial

& the inviolate estuary plant life

struck yob-ended cubic grey

buried in the protest movement 

to see the love again, in those eyes? 

dinghies poached & what Yaxley? broke

under its silhouette the British speck

& your Habeas Corpus

staked in fireproof letterboxes 

‘justice’ warped softly dead

called out sacrifice & care

scrying a buzzword of tearing

from its arms Identity originated here from 

a council estate built God saves

Lebensborn e.V. the sun also rises  

& & to its own breathing payments 

boxed in solemn Seppuku’s

on Armistice Day see what happens now 

is put to ghastly music clicks & drones 

see the love in those protestors eyes? 

see an open neck the language of groupthink, 

culled from the Third Way handbook

Are you proud or dead? now, 

see Migs in name but not in deed

& here stands the noblest 

commando in the airfield

our soliloquies scab pulling

red pillar-nativists to a jingle of spurs

& the crashing of boots at the curb

how much is enough?

How much is nothing scrubbed ?

stiffer than parade-ground disciplines

which gave life, warmth & action, 

to what had been hitherto been

a drooping mob’s rosette 

balaclavas florid screed, 

blotched heroics #WeWillNotBeReplaced , 

Quisling pigs scarlet 

& horse wig under stars draught 

gerrymandered white ash now

around the husk perimeter, 

Blood & Honour groupuscules 

a banner drop of burning poppies 

its swooning pile on my breastbone own's 

quite dwelling the world continues

daydreaming over the standing-reserve 

& what falls out? w

omen in veils, 

gathered near a well

in a small village a thousand children

where whiteness is spectral   

the cadastre singing out

mullah British mullah

& O woe my heated bareness, 

awhile none else might meet 

low near merry england 

to cheer at your feet.