3.13.26
Rose ceiling turns out
the smallest keep
how those who own property
might despise their own possessions,
xylophones or thrown out
a first floor window
between us the coming freedoms
dead body to speak
openly without lithium choked
backcourts of tenement, box
bowls light from mirrors
rooms brighter even now
in black damp twitch
zennor oolong scratches or
my dolmens of efficiency saving
mullion to mullion touches both sides
window ails whatever southward
lugwormed your hearts heart of proxies
done dark mica air or eyes or
pink feldspars clear quartz time
half-meant acid nuance choiceless
in-dangling in-work poverty
out exit buddleia status: hedonium
snapping no literary ambition
patrons vermiculate flesh coloured
out of bounds people
I waywend plainsong
careered murmurings
the body of sadism defining
class procreation serried
slow dead from here
to Central Station
Soft Water (i)
Wally close red stone
tarriers in brinewet floodplain
as if the floor was gulched by Orangeism
thin little nags & wretched pallet crafts
Lodge Laws collarettes curled circles
old shoogly harebells
& the twelfth Haberdasheries
felled to a black flame
the peace barrier curbside I sit
highscoring micro lots
but barely living
the cold fingered clyde
chins a song for rent
dreich, I can’t stand my own
mind parading, fraternal drunkenness
or cream yellow exiles
cold storage cutcross ripples
or worm eaten low-capabilities
people ruin of air sprangled dogrose
hippidom mizzled the remaining
comfort space towpaths
oracling childstock
least you're clear of chrome ballast
in the eternal allotments rising
the future different shades
of tayberries & patty pans
all else burning rings
of idioglossia on embroidered towels
For Mark Scott
Put out the light
of the last crimson star
special prayers hollowed
death is death salutogenesis
good health on the Red Road
its premature mortuary scenery
in the centre The Wealth Games
with a common signet mouth of cortisol
here is the tree that never grew
here is the bird that never flew
here is the bell that never rang
in region of hapless skin
burning some envoi to working patterns
inner Maslowian pyramids
vertical lists of failed kingships
black boxed militant death-drive
02.13.26
The wicked people have annexed
The verses on the good;
A roaring drunkard sports the text
Teetotal Tommy should!
Thomas Hardy, The levelled Churchyard
Here is my hatred of appearances
aloe vera’d hands open to burning
in the mill of city point lights
the sacred Elysium
there are two paths before us
an anarchist elegy mirror stage
or to spiraling music Krishnacore
you decide to count
take promises out of them
w/ Djibouti sovereign wealth fund
turning aside thoughts
formerly localised around
heart to bilking thin
against the light of others
nobody wants to feel hated
in the fear centre nerve caissoned
bright low drone translucent people
sober with badges
The order of Forgiveness Mimesis
Rivalry Sacrifice LTD
in a stackrung ascended
good as fatal stanchions
hardlined in the hollow room
probes your speech the lift of skin
you move through in the external world
order stands now it means
you have left the total of forgotten blame
to not speaking hands trough motions
the delicate reconciliations
of your own life & of the cancelled
welts are still people, nothing is forever
angelica root people
drift away from people
the shore people
the anomalous pain
at the end of people
01.07.26
In their genial lives accoutrement
roses curve for them social pleasantries
in the unlistening place & house-style
plenary phrases permanently halfway
round your finger so tenderly,
instead think of paddington speights
of stolen municipal chairs
ratiocinated cliques
what stops hopeless loss?
answer: the sausage class
inside the walls of Shit & The City,
I frighted my friends
rolling over for something
in the teeth again,
comrade solidarity Room 101
deregulated yourself
into access thresholds
wet winged dims the carousel
since kinships defenestrate
its common loss
your chlamydia heart
my madrage one
inward turning its emptier groves
so next, dear reader its Take Time
by Scatman John
01.01.26
Singing to dead thrushes dead
Moorgate rains ethanol fluid
staked out the earth instead
for scatological rites of all nations
under corporate umbrellas,
for fleshes of welded indices
small pillboxes of faith
curled in ludic circles
around my shotout mouth,
multiple deprivations re-slicing
a charred linnet buff
burning on NCP London clay
bellum mouth runs around
the deregulated Square Mile
Roman city boundaries
Corporation 65,000 cubic metres
of soil taken for Bronze
hares long-limbed more
CLC veneers this worlds
impenetrable silveredge,
so why be here? stiffing in the rain
swilling roseamouthed
buried under nightstars cloudnines
Carillon red dots I can see them
the regeneration scheme
burning words truest
slow curdle its light
jack-knifed like the bend
of a hockey stick
brooding out bin-bags
to sing again a greater & emptier lease
hypertrophied apartment blocks
occasionally sublime
'if there's a hell, I've lived to see it'
the Elected Representatives,
the Common Councilmen,
the Aldermen milk-paled,
sallow sheriffs
& Lords from Medieval guilds
stuck behind your ears
a jasmine flower into the sand-drag
blows the profoundest carrion
in your city's quarter
02.09.25
Tell me your relation to pain, and I will tell you who you are!
Ernst Jünger, “On Pain”
Sounds like post-work
wind-down nightlife fall out
across emptied servant towers
the silver eclipsed floor systems
the ceilings voided stark ghosts
acoustic cancelled out sleeps is it possible
bent breathing between dried up
ground below open the bowl organ
in the archigram Falseself
a hymn that went the way of negation
but nothing can be eaten forever
selforganizing place-shaping
the macro-systems continuum
charity CEOs, civil servants
& masterplanners what is left of music
went into the Diaphragm Wall
stranded call the language
of that death acoustic as class vengeance
antidotes midnights Liftblrs
until you can’t wreck out your
ferrules in the anti-citylife
developments sunrise
in your eyes punctum
dichroic film scratched inside
the wet paper brain postdrome
Werkstatt ideas engine devolve
from Stanhope PLC a field of glass,
windswept Thomas Heatherwick's
your mother’s bead expertise, regurgitate
seeing futuristic housing prototypes
& what has been forgotten
solid, bright concealed take my eyes out
at the Construction Expo
Five Angel Heads Comprise the biosphere
& how to die in it? command center
sitting on the laver eclipsed arches
all human malevolence is planned
orange light porphyry stone
it’s meaningless orange light
loggia curls quiet out
composite social bowels
typology bonded
in the shadow of the new Cathedral
the paying metronauts swim
in the highest pool in Europe
& you eat them in the Giant Needery
the midnight tabulation the drills,
the controlled explosions,
the corporation in the Sanatorium
little britain haemophilia
& shallow end of Bullism
I have no people
& makes no noise
30.08.25
Kayfabe through a ream of sunlight
the spathe of my heart Mustaqbal
deglomeration don’t say that word to me
syringed out PV-Wind-DG-Battery
image classification
literature waste collection in that order
but leave me my love
adapted into a technical principle
& held in the advancement of
on the Gulf of Aqaba alive in your mouth
under dusking trees
flood the zone with shit cinema museum roof
official nitrate air
of fate contaminants machine translations
infernal strategies dark pathologies
the beautiful vistas worldsick trypophobias
swim in the ether of its linear composition
zenithal flight of birds
crystalline soothed
a giant artificial moon
zero streets now paradised black minutes
31.08.25
In the Vanta black nights
domestication of ice & cold
to be desired an ice palace
all the rules of most modern architecture
glycine mir hyperstition
desiccated black snow
nobody exists you have no choice
the choice comes after
Executive Order 13771
who was able to measure
& tame frost lives forever
Vormärz Grodek Autumn Forest
drone full of stars noon-marked
cathedrals FTC & NIST
dancing on glass again
vertical community
forged cold metals
frozen water sub-divided
to the point it becomes
perfectly liquid again
Giddy Carousel
Airbrushed minarets sacred lands
comment is free at the
White Nationalist Grievance Party
to stick a knife in you
the circumference of me,
or hilt point cursing the Cenotaph
dragged under martenside
in Oakham rain shining purple acetate
for that which blows up your wife & kids
gets buried in flowers
I call it Floodgate,
marches to be kindred
this islands country of
biscuit tins Cherry-Gardens
enmities against well-placed bombs
evil tears in Angstzonen Lionhearts
& their lone halos
the parvenus nouveau black shirts
past to future militias
decayed Britannia Unchained
& the ridges near Albion Gates
O pickering to see Gadarene
or Pegida drinking tea;
God saves its Overton window
poor soldier prostrates
anti-Blimps closing ranks
off this mortised rim
for you & me, Royal British Legion
Poppy Cross Wreath Type D
& the final fatal tree
Fusilier confit counter nisus
death passes inviolate
& estuary plant life yobends
buried cubic grey for the protest movement
to see again & love again
& dinghies poached & what Yaxley broke
under its silhouette British speck
indelicate & your Habeas Corpus
staked fireproof letterboxes
‘justice’ warped softly dead
called out sacrifice & care
a scrying buzzword tear
from its arms Identity originated here
a council estate that God saves
Lebensborn e.V. the sun rises straight
to its own breathing payments
Seppuku myself on Armistice Day
put it to music &
the language of groupthink, put it to music
culled from the Third Way handbook
put it to music
are you proud & not dead?
see the Migs in name but
instead Yaxleys silhouettes
here stands the noblest,
commando in the airfield
soliloquies red pillar nativists pull
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,
a drooping mob’s rosette #WeWillNotBeReplaced ,
& horsehair wig blotched heroics
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 sings out
mullah British mullah
& O my heated toes,
low near merry Englands woes
go & cheer once more at my feet
