I seem to have missed the lesson,
or maybe it was a paid seminar,
where being a ******* to folk not like you
is seen as cool

A staggering self-belief, or indoctrination
into a way of thinking that excludes
the workers, powerhouses, batteries,
seems insane in a way
that only limited lineages
seem genetically capable of

But now I’m stooping, so I’ll stop

Let’s all stop
being in thrall to noisy *******,
rugger-buggers who had charmed and broken youths,
who knew no hunger except in minds
and no kindness except paid for

I would feel pity, but these bred monsters
are parasitic,
so to let them survive,
******* and spouting lies,
kills us all in the end.

Britannia rules these waves

Here is where I met you, in our space, in our sphere,
but I appropriated it from you, didn’t I?
You liked to stand near the pungent water pipe behind the building
Just under the flickering neon.
Here is where I witnessed a whirlwind in still life, careful but creepily
Analyzing your ways.
You are something dangerous but sparkling, something I should not need
but alas, here we are.
Here is where you stand and look straight ahead, boring into my eyes. Your voice, melodic,
distant, tinged with some almond liqueur
‘I’m not yours’
You do not know that, do not worsen the dragging of life, please.
There is a coppery, slick taste on my tongue, you do not know.
Here is where you stood but now you are gone.