Rough music

one policeman turning pig is all it takes

driven shivering onstage the rough music awakes

cornered into such a state

call it unprovoked – they might pronounce it ‘retaliate’

“at a time when negotiations are still ongoing…”

money’s running through the streets like blood in The Shining

the smell’s got the cats in the alley wailing down the wall

ain’t nothing more eloquent in the context than burning down a mall

roll the coverage and we all watch the watchful eyes wink

harmless custard pies for the custodians, tides of ephemeral ink

“lay aside the rhetoric”, you women and men of stopped clocks

hold a lighter to the wind and pull your bubblegum spines out of the locks

say what you like about th’incendiary data

it doesn’t take an Academy to forge a tiger

all it took was some jungle and a barbed wire

the nosedive doesn’t make the gannet      (cry til you laugh

any more than this one-upmanship          build a bridge make a raft

is gonna float the planet                 try to extract meaning not

                                          votes from the graph)


but but the Olympics but but the Legacy  but but the year-on-year-adjusted figures for proserpinity – it’s all so much blistering blustering if you’re just doing the thing, right, not thinking about the right thing

and it’s not in my name and it’s not in his name

but they heard it coming and kept digging all the same – mark it well

stupidity brutality and laziness kicked life into the groundswell that’s been growing in the cul-de-sacs from hell   while inside the Ring of Steel it’s business and SimCity as usual

even as the facts reveal

that clique and claque are and remain

bamboozled  by the earthquake that’s ongoing now the rough music is awake


I’m kissing my bad dreams good morning

falling in love with the sublime bed of the river

world on fire


huis clos no longer

hanging off hinges

bile cascading at the hearts

(beating sub rosa)

I’ll pull off my own skin if it

gets me any closer

the more he spoke the more he lost his temper

“but this brother’s not for shutting up”, so,

oh well then, bullshit, malaise, welter – and poison

goes where poison’s welcome, doesn’t it, so sod the karma


poison, you can call me Sir, post-haste, let’s do it – shoot on sight

                                                       Middle England will

                                                       regain the night

                                                tabloid-blooded vampires

divided and brought low by the commonest denominator

This letter’s dead this st-st-stutter’s broken

rewind the story to Apollo and the kindly ones

two step into the demented orchestra, bloodclut conducta

I smell bacon means kowtow,Clytemnestra

The bare bones of the law becon to danse macabre

and it’s going to take some serious ideological taxidermy

to stop the rubadub on all our plates cooking over into war

call in the seventy-million infant army

call in the think tanks the bricks and mortar

call in a proper cat-o-nine-tails on the banks

enough flogging

enough drilling

enough optimism for this millennium

isn’t unobtainable if we can just put a knife

in our collective atavism (sorry, Cameron, you ain’t it)

collect ourselves and just

be human


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s