13.08.25
Accepted cope in the counter circles
the bits of frayed lanyard, grey uniform
its end wrapped sickness
to your life's insides endless white night
shut in with ghosts in mandrelled lists
pass codes time hurt strategy,
to lose simple colours you walk across
breaches trickling managerial techniques
lurching in mouldering song
called back the countless voided dead
by blood & silence
of our lives goes into enjambed frights
if you don’t work you get
The Chains cut silver in each cup
of the British state draining
effort from our psyche,
replaced by a sense of entitlement
disintegrated the sun too
also shines close to my face
where do you appear
when you go? trapped respite
bundling performance capabilities
& procedures change the words
in my head to fit within the gates
in a line of pain at the end
is Occupational Health
the database rooms housing wellbeing
filed away from you to business premises
the stretching cuts into word
the compliance you hurt with
its own soft density
propped still under S.A.D. lamps
the requested heart circadian rhythms
descending in the splitting hour
for language melts into
work ethic of cab drivers,
Polish labourers &
British-Asian schoolchildren
hardly differentiated
the field of sound,
the infinitely flimsy skein
its spectral colour
stutters on my stomach
iridium speech (see Sanctions)
your deepest part UK gilt
climb out of yourself forever
Boss daddy more-than deathsized
while the slope moving further
into some kind of incentivised
negative territory
grafted defense or wall
against excruciating tinctures
the language of this perverse cosmology,
our ‘beating’ of ourselves into its counterbeat
the illnesses in your biography
fucked beyond its will.
