Officer pushed him. He went forward.
Thought he had hit his head.
Expected blood beneath
the surface of the skin
or dead tissue above
the surface hair is an attribute,
part of the human body
it breaks into an arrangement
or configuration
the category of a weapon elegised to class
a pricket gathering
at the base of emergency situations,
with just enough hope
below that blood filled glow
is yours QC on moonbeams
a cruel vector of birchen pens,
The Director of Public Prosecutions
QC Keir Starmer
a redoubtable wielding roflcopter
of justice drugged
to taskforce a plea-filled earglow
your children's hopes
as burnt missives imagine
commercial leases imagine
the courtyard tribunal apex
upon which the presiding authority sat
imagine inside these delicate circles
that conceit hails exception
lawfully still like garlands
or stars circling together tonight
delighting on such a night
& the clouds that stilled like
Justices Face & not twist about
for public taste our legally enshrined
& age-old tradition spiked to peace
the Lauding State whittling germane
all-powerful love creates
& tends above,
to all things in its care
that's flashing through me right here!
& you repeat to stuttering
from The Last Stars uttering
The Power of the Bar!
Give us tools,
arguments & defence lines
to allow us to say
water cannons are necessary
plastic bullets permissible & all day
as to its deterring eternal embrace
is blissful & with good goodness
is their existence
policing over personnel codes
& what constitutes
a weapon previously growed?
Out The History of Judgecraft
alone as courts depart
merely ciphers for
Twenty-Four-Hour sittings
no pause on weekends
to increase the rate of convictions
& made a personal appearance
at 4am Highbury Magistrates Court
Morale Boost. Core Quality Standards.
Billing my head’s so burnt –
a thousand times before.
Scab who cried a placard weaponised
& in the end,
you’re just a disgusting shite
like tar & sulphur skein
pushed within
filing to desist in the portcullis
again these accoutrements meet
human rights guidelines
understand here:
Core Quality Standards
there's no remit
in a Snooper’s Charter
desist on rapid riot
prosecutions hovering roses
curves like burning above
as hearts may contest
yet words are truest,
said from clearest gathering
around its apex,
as framed I am here,
in my proper place.
It’s hard to see how anyone escapes.
Day may smile on us with odd gleams
yet night entwines us
in doorweb creaks,
a eulogising speech
breaks against my teeth
streamlining statutories
The Knight of the Realm,
raised to codes of conduct
granular predecessors
unremitting work ethics
again the emptiest spaces emerge
bleaches behind us,
a standing worth
& what was said
Sir State,
You are a perfectly decent
human being!
& servants perquisites
& protections
listening advisers,
exercises & focus groups
hatreds stilled to the edge
to receive on your knees
Court-news murdered close
your mouth & nose!
You are Britain’s Fairest Man.
