Let us forget
their faltering war
of shatterings –
of splinterings
of run-from-shops
blown high-to-dust
by others’ drops
of barrel bombs
Let us suckle –
forever blind
Who cares about
such foreign stuff
when we fight
white men seeking
re-election?
Slipped pschents
and insolence –
they are our parade
through Facebook
and shelters under
Twitter storms
I fear death through
water as spelt out
by wicked cards
placed by Madame
Dead stars travel
but will not arrive
Tag: alt-right
The Ballad of Belmarsh Gaol
#TommyRobinson
is going to prison –
along with Stephen
Yaxley-Lennon
Stuck in a single bed?
Only room for one
I hope it’s a double –
more space for threesomes
Eight weeks – his stretch –
56 nights defiled?
Perhaps Yaxley-Lennon
will turn Oscar Wilde
#daft instant poem posted to Twitter: it encouraged one alt-right to take up verse
A Taste of Honey
Dear Steven Patrick Morrissey –
mononymously known by your burly surname
I fell in love with you in nineteen eighty-four –
or maybe slightly before – when you sang a lullaby –
Yes – it was just for me – played on an ache-laden
Scouse-spun John Peel Session
You were Alan Bennett – on a sweat-rinsed riser –
taking straight boys with your stirring words
A glimpse of your chest was enough to doubt
girls’ shapely tits had enough to give up
Then you spoke out from your tooth-whitened America
whilst making those Mexican boys doubt
How you turned me off with your racist complaints
My Dear Steven – you no longer interest me
Nebbich
There can be
no denial of
whilst victims of
and children of
know those
now-blurrings
were man-made
but it will pass
that deniers will
out last deep ink
and then history
will detach
from our word of
The Scent of People
Larner feared removal
of the scent of people
in crowded wiki articles
Dumb grazing animals
hardly move from hoof to hoof
with their heads down
At this bar
three men sit
before chemical beer
misdirected and under-lit
Tommy Robinson spits
as poor aims are raised
by squaddies at politicians
and three men take turns
to buy another Peroni
without exchanging words
We know everything
by what we read and watch
whilst bent to scent-free pastures