Confided To Son by Dick
I would prefer to be living
in the South of France, seen watching
the beautiful girls go by
or, like his father, a Pau sky.
*
The family had lived in France
until The Great Crash on Wall Street,
for mother Esme a great dance
but then they had to make ends meet.
They went to live in the Hampshire
of Autumn Journal, The Army.
Parents dead, by 1940
his sisters in Fleet. 5, for sure.
August 20th
Ou, Mes Grands Vacances
Immobilised, dans le jardin
by layering of heat, a pen
or biro in hand, in memory
remembering Berlin, the sea
silent, j'etais tres fatigant
and seeking to avoid a rant.
I did not want for Sicily -
what, pray, be the interruption ?
Je desiree' un grand voyage
but avoiding marine suction.
August 24th
Pour Douze MI5 encrypted
Clear the badlands of Birmingham !
of every infidel, the sham.
Too many, the pram, and the scam.
Is everything eaten with jam ?
Put everybody on a tram.
You sent Kit to inspect Dachau
on a train creaking through The Ruhr.
Un jour, the need for a grand slam !
Aussi, un delice pour la dame.
August 20th/ September 4th
Barking Riverside To
Brown-foaming, choppy upriver
for the powering Thames Clipper
then outright rough, seat regarding
in the stern array on array
of set-back riverine Condos
that outline staring, staring hard
beyond Woolwich. Do people stay ?
They multiply presentiment
born of sci-fi dystopia
with not a trace of merriment.
Tall, on Greenwich Peninsular
soaring megalomania,
searing even in commanding
utterly, and without rondos.
written noon in Westferry Circus cf
Sky Panels Docklands pbl. Acumen
50 Anthology September 2004
Awe, Westferry Circus
or, without Polos, to remind
you of mint curves, when in a bind
on the supreme Pent Veranda
and unable to pay the rent,
dizzy from the panorama.
In your minty hole, nothing pent ;
the lush day over, you lean spent.
When will the Towering be rent ?
Rondos For Tondos
Something from Wagner, or Finland
to celebrate their march inland
and zig zag camouflage, to sand.
What will happen to the bonzos ?
burping bottles of old Bordeaux.
For each rebel, a painted toe.
The Goth Girls rarely say : go slow !
wanting to make love in a row.
What happened to all the solos ?
Untrue, to claim that AI knows
that pitch Canary Wharf, one day
will raise up Venetian slipway,
the Triangle a commanding height
and fish below, without daylight.
Outrage In Essex
for The National Grid
You are stealing infinity,
for a derisory saving
with your parading gaunt Pylon
instead of burying under,
from Norfolk, to sad Tilbury.
You can coat cable with nylon.
Will The Director read my page ?
Outrage like gathering thunder
for a monumental blunder.
AI Wharf Mask Ageing
If you live to one hundred
and fifty, what will sex be like
with a young woman a hundred
and thirty years younger ? The hike
challenging, to buy Viagra.
You would not have life to engage
with her, or translate her language
even near The Thames Barrier.
for the grizzly, skin soft, ripply !
August 23rd/ September 4th C Wharf +
Condo SoarView
Red Penthouse veranda towel,
crumbly people to feed seagull.
He, a Gin bore, wore a napkin
until wind, The Tower shaking.
Unwise to throw in the trowel !
Turning to him, will she smile ?
Below, the uncontested mile.
At dawn, few move in single file.
For Lord Byron
I am haunted by Don Juan
like Auden, and your Stanza line
that arrived to night brandy wine.
The scathing, sharp interjection
with no rude ejaculation ;
savour the fleeting transition.
August 24th
Zenith Of Summer
Barking/Dagenham : what a beach !
brown water slurping out of reach.
Summer flannel clinging to skin,
they are sweating at Wimbledon.
Remote, of last Spring, the nadir
when you were not a believer.
At Mudchute Farm, hilly meadow
grass burnt, there is little shadow.
Frazzled goat, and The Lambs of God
move to water, their feeding pod
in view of Towers of Mammon,
radiant with sunny heaven
above the hill, on Canary Wharf.
So contrasting, we cannot laugh.
Group Admittance
Only those who fought in '40
can be offered cake, bread and tea ;
population from India
can flourish in suburbia.
The fight was a fight to the death ;
we cannot subsidise bad breath.
Some have to be stopped from breeding
or, a strict ban on breast-feeding.
Many like to salivate sherbert ;
top Christian name, not Herbert.
In '40, no need for a Test
for the citizen to know best.
Everyone had a job to do :
nobody did not have a clue.
August 26th
Casus Belli after MacNeice
Who am I ramping for ? Those who
fought and died in 1940.
Live now, driven to a fury
at squalor for all but a few,
a culture of barbarity
with English no longer spoken.
They, though, proud of our Ukraine,
Spitfire and Hurricane
Tippet, and Benjamin Britten
but not the submerging selfie.
Lost, a cringing Establishment
yet to reform the Parliament.
Joan said we all lived on sardines
before sending in The Marines.
Motor Quip Ditty
Unless we find a new starter,
The Bond Market will bite harder.
Boring, to carry on like this :
strangers will not fund unearned bliss.
Gilt market participant, white,
still in love with Angel Delight.
Why be kind to those full of spite ?
unwilling to drive a tractor.
After all, it does not matter.
Quippers 2 (for Kippers)
Do we have a Romanov King,
to a Prime Minister weeping ?
The gens may start barricading,
The Army into barracking.
Purple satin bedroom slipper
are ready, ante the kipper,
to be eaten near the Papers
at dawn, profiling Luxor drapers.
The Nation bulgers wait in line,
preparing for the trampoline
to a green budgie, looking fine.
Out on the Esplanade, fixers
ring concocting for the Mixers.
War Gaming, On
The stability of NATO
is under threat from the Banjo
copulating of The Negro
and Mohammedan Moscow.
We need a General Franco
Gloria in excelsis Deo
I prefer chicken with mayo
Trinitatis is not solo.
If everyone bred sambo
no pounds for The Defence speedo.
All they want to be is wacko !
Dogged by drones, crouch trencher hello.
How to conclude, I do not know :
need a Leader with a rainbow.
August 27th/ September11th
Staying Alive Quatrain
Staying alive, to repay my Virgin
credit card and not one virgin
out there one could afford to buy
however hard, wry, you might try.
Not a joke about hurt and spurt !
Party Wall Joke
The one dry wall, the Lucy wall
here, after the downpouring squall.
I am now ever in her thrall.
Coming Full Circle
Neo-Classical Surreal-
ism in Alexander Pope,
a Thesis on, my ideal
post Oxford, American hope
in a Mid-West University,
written there ; had no currency
to leverage. The Augustan
there, still had many a fan.
Now, I am striving for order
in work flaring with disorder.
August 28th/ September 11th
==================================
forward positioning --- subject to edits/inter-text
From Visions In Essex (a coast path) Sept 6th
The Fields Between
for Sir Andrew Motion
Shoebury, and Great Wakering
must be free for vast-cloud walking
the England Coastal Path, by wheat.
Their is terror in urban neat !
( From lawn, rock, Shoeburyness
you can drift, enter a vastness. )
Maths Lesson For Rachel
and Treasury Idiots
Divide the increase in National
Debt, for year prior (one hundred
and eighty billion pounds) by twelve
and then you have the number dread
for making deep cuts here and there
monthly, sticking to cash flow shelve.
The vital number is fifteen.
Idiots follow Gordon Brown.
Call For A Coup. Why ? ex MI9
White Power in the thinking South
no longer present in The House,
The Tory just a nibbly mouse.
Labour, a vacant mental drouth.
( We may need a White Parliament,
to engage cutting argument.)
Term For Home Secretary
Must recite the Ave Maria
in Latin, at morning prayer.
Pro nobis, Sancta Maria
Or, the Office to surrender.
all September 7th/ late 5th
Siding With The Enemy
In appointing one Minister,
an act profoundly sinister
as you know the price of Treason,
if you still have cogent reason.
You sup to the lowest common
denominator, not rigour.
Tomato ketchup, fish finger !
Your voters love to malinger.
Rosary Chapel September 9th
A pure rectangle of sunlight
shone bright on The Virgin Mary
for little more than a minute.
September 8th/ 7.20 am Sept. 9th
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