the meaning of royalty it too can be killed (2019)

the meaning of royalty it too can be killed, 

bin bags, hay, management bonus

 2019

Housing Act (2019)

Cover by Daniel West 

Cover Typography Joshua Hart 

pp. 35

26 Poems 

Email littlebighammers@gmail.com if you want a copy for 6 pounds. Hopefully more...soon

Meet Ends at Peak (22/11/2019-11/01/2020) COLE DENYER

Ode to Mini (1/3) DRAFT/UNFINISHED

Slithering on a heat belt made of 

ambrosia in the corner 

is the chief whip

a chubby fingered naughty

in a truce don't call a basket or other receptacles below, 

no the large crowd predicted as usual

that there would be no significant rival claimants

all being all saying and sharing none of its DNA

in the first place so make off-white wickerwork 

like beauty in Victoriana pop and  

it toured globally for many years! HUZZAH

staged as mimes of English history in perjury 

in fields the brass wrought 

to the cub hymning back to 

an impossible sweat gland 

to lay a scent and pick up

to lay one more persistent!

is death of clique leaders 

in a collision on the A149 at Sandringham.

What are you going to do?
 Are you going to fine him?
 Are you going to put him in prison? It’s ridiculous. 

The outcome is satisfactory and his 

car runs on a crisp white wine, 

that is satisfactory and it smells

delicious through the hills.

I saw 14-year-olds carry out

hideous acts of courage

with cracked heads and things like that,

yelled at stones and trees

more brokenheads in the morning then!

they yelled at 

stones and I called God and 

the military and both came on the dot

now what the fuck are you going to 

do, I've got God and the Military 

on call whenever the fuck I want. 

The outcome is inevitable, this is 

your dirt grave. 

I said it was 

out of the ordinary standing there

but oh! the glow-stick vigil garden 

is beauty without measure and it

all started to compost, all for a seatbelt probe

eleven teddy bears walked out 

in sobbing protest the plants still 

in vigil glow followed them one by one 

all the way around Europe and back 

my love for you. The police 

and a number, withering in

Althorpe you and what fucking army 

Johnny Oddball pryo-queen nothing 

to stand on or face the full

force of law your life

this dough ball fondling 

legs just gave way to a new-style 

share platter, out the ordinary 

woke up in a bath of shit mud who's coming 

of silver shining through  

that's just the way I am
the way I was bred!

Meet Ends

Meet Ends
Cole Denyer
22 Nov 2019 -- 11 Jan 2020

 PC Harper On a Friday night
 Eating old el Paso
 Fajitas and watching
Spiderman Homecoming on
Sky Movies curled up on an
L shaped couch with his new wife
who is wearing woolly socks
and resting her head
in his armpit deferentially

Opening:
Friday 22nd of October 7pm - 10pm
 Tuesday - Saturday 11am - 7pm

Peak Gallery
Unit 340a
Lower Ground
Elephant and Castle Shopping Centre

Hard In Home Counties

2001 (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

I create ghostly pictures of death, officially sanctioned.

I have to believe this mass sacrifice of animals I love is worth it.

Or is it the farmers who are the real sacrifice?

Like the animals, they take it meekly and obediently often thanking me for doing it

After I had killed all 356 cattle in one family’s dairy herd they sent flowers to my wife.

These are the people who are giving up all, in the hope it will save others.

But don’t get me wrong!

I have now seen plenty of this plague and it is no common cold.

The animals suffer horribly, as the skin of their tongues peels off and their feet fall apart.

We must try to kill them quick and clean, as soon as it appears in a herd or flock.

The farmers’ suffering does not end with the visit of the

Slaughter men.

I must continue to do my duty in these Cumbrian killing fields, quickly, efficiently and effectively.

Yes, the official papers must all be in place.

Yes, the Health and Safety man must be happy.

Yes, the Environment Agency is only doing their job as best they can.

It is 6am. Today I go out to kill again.

The worst is the young stock.

I thank God the lambs are not yet born with these ewes.

Today I will have to kill a calf born yesterday, the first beautiful calf from the farmer’s pride and joy – his new Charolais bull.

This is not what I trained for.

I hope familiarity will never make me immune from the trauma of killing.

But I do hope – for the animals sake – to be good at it

It is the virus we are trying to kill!

With our disinfectants and culling policy our imprisonment of farmers in their own homes

All they have left is the telephone.

Perhaps today there is hope.

One soldier will meet me at the farm gate,

I hope he, not me, will quickly arrange the funeral of the animals I love.

Before their carcasses get so bloated they fall apart.

Adding more to the farmers’ anguish, trapped amongst them.

I should be free to move on quickly, find the virus and kill again.

The countryside I love is bleeding to death.