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THE AMERICAN HARDWOOD EXPORT COUNCIL PRESENTS ‘THE SMILE’ the first ever ‘mega-tube’ cross-laminated tulipwood. Entering The Smile through an opening where the curved form meets the ground, the visitor can walk from end to end of the 34-metre-long tube to discover a new kind of space that gradually rises toward light. All four sides of The Smile's interior will be made of the same beautiful hardwood panels as the structure. It will offer a complete sensory experience of colour, texture, scent and sound. The Smile's two open ends will illuminate the funnel-like interior space and act as balconies to the city.
Along the walls, perforations will allow sunlight to draw changing patterns on the floor throughout the day. The perforations will also give the visitor an understanding of how the structure performs as they're located in positions where there are fewer structural stresses. At night the interior will be illuminated by linear light strips that trace its dynamic curving floor. Through glassy walls that slowly turn the secret parts of us bending rising when it’s all quiet you can hear your body fits the crevice in the most comfortable fashion imaginable.
Stephen Christopher Yaxleys
old panoply of grimoires
or are we now inside venerated sprigs
over chalk breaks like Dover Straits
& listen to quarter peal
of Stedman Caters
ringing as though sounding the tocsin,
fingered a heart thrugs to fading
cold as daybreaks
rendition a broken English light
curls up my back to tap
on the hypercondensation
the window sneaks a think-tank
to translucent its bleeding line
through the breached yew tree,
a coup operation;
you are listening to,
now speaks the Nationwide Festival of Light
like breaking tiny little speckled abrasions
beyond feeling, rosacea skin gradients
of eternal bliss a berry for later,
snaps Peers as the poverty lobby
is galvanised to crypt it,
to bury falling through the
stairway at Bevin Court,
the abolition of suffering
moral standards
your name is bleach
covered in thin bronze
galvanised in the basement
of the building
Lenin creaks out
a whispered slue
in the central linking drum,
my eyes now glue
weeping on the gallery floors
you watch from
the rooftop canopies,
its tapering and thinning
air what is to be done
with Hopton Wood Stone clipped
now painted?
a naked winged angel bronze butterfly
goes missing, Y-shaped
torn belthers on crimson thread,
Yaxleys in the area
lilies mercifully
I foul, out to the wildernesses
to crypt it, yes,
this act weakened me but,
in a way,
I have been cared for
yes, I am diminished
but I am also emboldened:
it feels like passion
ears bent to fagends
it move me at night sometimes
to be near anti-pigeon spikes
pressing against the vulnerable white skin,
the skin of a living boy,
the skin without blood gradually,
a chest without air,
slackening, thin stomach thinning
caving in eventually to
the beginning of the implementation
of the notorious Credo programme
–my antedate pure;
strong, I am, & determined so very much
as gradients of intelligent bliss
orders curve over me
a magnitude richer like god on wort.
Dave Pearce, you have unsundered
the Future's portal upward still,
and onward, is yours alone,
scaped so bend our ' Mayflower,'
and steer boldly through
the desperate winter sea,
effective altruism phasing out
suffering here tonight
under bluelight meld all bleating
goodstrong people's blood,
that is good ¬ shitmud!
& I can see from fits of burning
rubber the ever glowing,
never receding line
of fealty chokes K, thou art my life,
to death, at night
in Ebenezer Howards ancestral environs
replaced by a motivational system
of heritable gradients
of bliss states
of sublime well-being
that destined to become
the feasibility of pains abolition
retented
Yaxleys hidden,
a bin of pickering lillies
to tilth O father,
a flooded upland
the fairest hushes
of the wettest of lips
& uttermost purpose
the World Health Organisation clangs
under the jib of a needle
amygdala hijacked mid-hue
The Transmitted Deprivation Research Programme
per chevron gules & O barry wavy
of ten azure,
that some went mad
or in a fess,
embattled the last masoned sable
coloured in chief,
sunned in splendours gold
gone ‘social pathology’
gone under tower gules
gone two spigs of honesty gone to leaved slipped
a violent volume knob
for pain & poverty,
Yaxleys fall saltirewise
genebreaks
of intergenerational Montgomeries
& continuities bend
orchards round the wall,
of your buried head trusting pure O
that light is p-zombied
painless bite swells the CNS
in shades outside common rooms,
surrounds this garden
phenomenal binding
a mother's love,
the profoundest peace,
a Jupiter brain
pure bliss of the utilitronium launches
the problem of suffering
is tractable on pin-scales
the logarithmic pulse keeps
running all costs,
get polythene stretch it over our heads
tie it with a bit of string
this type of thing is
highly dangerous
& the curve bend
is the optimal zone,
What is the delta?
anode bookmarks flesh of pedos
is glued on Ebenezer Howards
darned light in Garden Cities
a kinder sky! socially engineered
catalyst anomies raided world elopes
or to be mangled burnt,
& docked friends, voluntary groups &
as a last resort of course by the State
a strike for your life! imp-
lore us; spectral Keith Josephs
failing radiant
social pathologies
banded for
waving
& smiling
& moving to fade
& calling all hearts to emulate
on the misery of 32 New “Mail Room” jobs in South London
on the misery of not being a cause
on the misery of misery
on the misery of not feeling entitled to one's misery
on the misery of knowing that one is doing harm
under a table in the morning,
I abolish pain below
the hedonic zero
treadmill all hearts
off caustic preening the lumbar straits
increase the baseline
there is always
intervening on the ground
under the pie-tree
fatlegged eating through a cloud of rice pudding;
on the other side of the fence
the Organising Group
an empty apparition, basted,
in votives spilling outwards 'familial processes'
are responsible, the gene code again
to rutter & madge to the ground
our structural Generation Merit,
to ferret out every weak spot,
peel away each loose fleck
in the lapse pickering
on my recurrent flashing dreams,
look at this clopping massive
giant fucking cloud
my frozen tongue
this lunar light
this future society is
log scales under bitter birch & levity
falling all things are finally
big & bright O dancing
in this moonlight
Ampthill Square your demonic
High Density Polyethylene
air cladtoy roof burning
soufflés the day of mouldwrap
in my eyes a reshe
under pisspoor catechisms
iring in the mid-distance
on small infill sites line prophecy
HS2 straw warnings Rotes Wien
cannot prevent blood skeleton
career winning skinfoils
endthwart & Rockfoils
overlong welts sinking empty
& shallow on Purchese Street
Open Space chairs diversionary
concrete maisonettes breakup
Metropolitan District Councils
dust suppressant monitor stations
'Well, if we see anything
or are alerted to anything suspicious,
you know our first response has to be physical force'
the company's official position
by your bruised lips
hide gloms of golden saxifrage
requiesce on Euston Road
The Sixth Carbon Budget
& the purlieus Argyle Square
stickling dream station, hostel to hostel
time warped in a field full of moles
aborted coldness talking to the dead again?
rustling inter-lined Burberry
Surbiton mist drift paraded end of day,
whorl of vapours light solid things fall
to the dissolve of sandstone
what hurts more in stone bowers,
a paraboloid roof plunging?
glass & concrete mime an upturned ark
the imagined version of the
1% as architectural design, bed of grey
white pearl shining throwing a halo
a dash or eternity?
A Heatherwick Stairway?
gad crack'd all people outside
are now dead as voices
from near silence under kissing buildings,
landscrapes your hands & face
forget yesterday's unkindness;
the heritage version of history
is embedded shit bas-relief
buried centuries our little gaps of sedge
get demented.