Tuesday, 30 March 2021

make it clear / they call it chaos




make it clear / they call it chaos


a wounded deer on the straight road

though the pines. low on fuel and signal.

crows survey the failing light. burger sauce

on a national trust map.


it is not

confusing / complicated / hard to navigate /

or make sense of / it is

straight forward /

we are not in chaos /

we have turned sharp right

you know of those / who drove it that way

your job is to make them

stop

Wednesday, 24 March 2021

These warnings, are trusty



These warnings, are trusty

 

The workers are tired,

trapped with absolute terror.

Touchy wardens, are they.

Toyed with; artists, truly

taxed, worried and torn.

 

Try whimsical, after ten

totalitarian weekenders, a thousand

totalling wind-ups, against tinsel

titled wankers all tucked-up

toasty, within allibaster towers.

 

Theiving, wherever. All tokenistic.

Triumphing worthy altruistic tendancies.

Trust. We’re all tuning

to whatever airways, trading

tik with any tok.

 

Tories will always try

to wantanly alienate, to

totemically wrest, auto-tune tribalism,

top-down widespread allied tabiod

toss, whenever attitudes tire.

 

This, when actual tradespeople

turn willingly against themselves,

taking whatever acid treaties

they will accelerate tomorrow.

Think why, allus this.

 

Treat without all thoughtfuness

these words - and these

three-line whipped and tyranic

tuchusleckers will always triumph.

These warnings, are trusty.


 

Friday, 19 March 2021

Flagshaggers #1

The ghost of Stan Boardman illegitimately pigeon scraps over pellets of relevance in the rain smelted park, as the chalky grip of dibble dust dissolves off of his kicked-in teeth. #FlagShaggers

Minions Like Us



 POLYSTYRENE ARENA

MPS AND BLIGHTY LAGS


HOT TOPIC TAKEAWAY

COMMENT DUTY


CRACKING FLAGS





Thursday, 11 March 2021

to the objects



to the objects / oi you / yes you / you
dangling doyle / who likes to get phys
ical with y' arsehole-at-arms defense
technique / I will distill / till the fumes
knock y' sick / take a life-long look at
the large print writ / eye this up for an
insta / simple / DON'T BE A DICK 

Sunday, 7 March 2021

Down Where the Baggies Roll



I knew I’d be licking the sticky

floor with the rest.

It was writ large on

the flyer.

The bounce and pop gives

no pity.

Skirt spins look mag-nificent

from down here,

at least.

To catch a breather for

easier times, is

all I’ve got.

As shrapnel for the phone box,

my last,

disappears into

a sprung floor gap,


I blame the management.

 

Monday, 1 March 2021

#2

 

the indoor pork-pie worked

virtually as hard as

grafting boots beneath