HISTORY CHANNEL (KIND OF REMEMBER ME THAT SIEGFRIED SASSOON) watched a video on World War One who started it who finished it who went who stayed at home who came back like my Mother’s Dad big gong of a medal around his soft young neck which is just as well otherwise wouldn’t be here myself to waste your time as Siggie’s bishop himself didst poetically proclaim the ways of God being satirically strange watched a video on the channel on World War One same as the last one same people won
Tag Archives: Britain
BLACKPOOL
BLACKPOOL
“how many holes it
takes to fill the Albert Hall”
I came to
Blackpool, Lancashire,
to be conceived
my soul already garbed
in tangerine
inland from the Irish Sea
I lived
our little river
up to something
revolution in music
to be remembered forever
there in that old, dead
slave port
swept up by voices, songs
steaming in
from a wilder West
brief Renaissance they
just had to
weed out
the fiction of Empire
in such dire need of it.
I came
to Blackpool to
get conceived
though sex, as Larkin said,
waiting for its establishment
ALONG
UK OK (not so very)
still solid
(courtesy of Victorian
architecture)
crazy high aquaducts
(now exactly what
do they do?)
university I went to
down main road manchester
freshly
returned from
south africa
settler colonial
(apartheid to
god knows who else
and me
and you)
but on that diet of dismal
how stuff going to grow properly?
how stuff going to flourish
when for best moral fibre
getting
force-fed gloom
red, white, blue
flag should be slate grey and
colour
most exploitative
see your politicians now
scared at the thought
people
might
have their
own ideas
university down oxford street
(or was it road?)
taught me something
about the
economic of F and K
(plaque proclaims
them
the previous tenants)
anarchy
OK OK strawberries
spoiled, by
this time
was
the late 70s
ust rattle your cheap jewellery here
and I’ll
imagine
in falsetto
less than happily singing along


NATURALLY
NATURALLY
a nation of shopkeepers
without shops
a nation of conquerors
without conks
a nation of accountants
called to account
in the event of
analysis
it’s a lout
rout

TOROJAN WOMBMEN






TOROJAN WOMBMEN
Toorojan Wombmen
have helmet heads
love licorice
(it is their
most guilty pleasure)
hate
allsorts
would send all allsorts
down to Poseidon’s locker
something fishy already
felt about the smell
Oh but the Achaeans
are coming
the Myrmidions are coming
loaded with logic
and rationality
their armour as
bad-bullet proof
as Blackpool rock
(so many cavities
in the fangs
you
are bearing
so much yellow enamel
in need of bleach)
HARPIES


HARPIES
They tug at the heat strings with state of the art wirecutters
so let us call them
“Harpies”
double envelopment
they have
broken through
both flanks
and encircled humanity
the minds they have captured
headed fod relentless torture
but this
blue bunting, red-
hot pokers
is all about mythology, about
Palladian architecture
and ancient meanings
the ocean sighing as it pulls
back from.the Dover shore
before biting further
into ths landscape
no time to
set fire to the ships we
must imagine them burning
must instruct
the plebs to
see them burning
everything so gaslit
it is plain
as day
and there
quoting disparately
in elementary Latin stands
our Caesar
sort of stands our Caesar
Oh when will
such a Caesar ever
come again?