brexitry in the uk (inc. chorus iv.)

i’m an analyrical

political animal,

fresh from facing off

a foreigner at the botanicals

i’ve reached the top, surprised

although i did start in the

middle (class) i realise

oh well, no pulling back

teetering on the brink

of my cul de sac

maybe i’ll hoist

a union jack

yeah i made my billions

by betting big

on brexit

i’m a big swellin’ bell

a beef sauce boudicca

and now it’s done and gone

my creativity diminished

naked on the stage

in the empty bar basement

shouting random swear words

for my own entertainment

they say a weird brother

is a sign of a weird family

drunk under the table,

call it strong and stable

let us adorn for the gilet years

whatever starts with hope

will end in tears

it’s the hint of sulphur

underneath the blend

ah well, we’ll get there in the end

that concludes stanza 14 of the love epochal. join me on tuesday next week where we will commence stanza 15 of the love epochal. i hope you are enjoying part three: giletdonism.

why not check out my instagram and youtube? or give the love epochal some listens on spotify / apple music and similar.

anyway, thanks for the support and i look forward to writing more poetry for you next week and every week after until i die.

unpacking

why am i in silence

when endless distraction

is afforded by science

my inbox emptied

to autistic dividers

i’m back from the volcano

to the shock of cold

a daze unwinding

spring clean my soul

order proves cathartic

i ponder again,

why do we say you

when we so clearly mean me?

a universal you

which you is who

when we discuss

ourselves

i love a spring clean. i love to sort, delete, donate and file. tidy everything up. examine the remnants of springs past.

i had accepted an offer of a new job and was winding down in my old role. i had a bit of free time. and i was still in the aftershock of my autism diagnosis. so it was nice to spend some time evaluating my things, putting them in order.

not all poetry has to be ‘good’

i run a run of six six sixes,

the diabolic average

the paupers’ economy is for sale

if you can afford it you are rich

the father of the bride has spent the

marriage in remission

so rock your hips back and forth,

and first and fourth and fifth

and back to tonic

ending on it

ending right

here

i kept going on runs of 6.66 km. the other day i got an insurance quote for £6.66 a month. i had to take a day or two to think it over. seems risky. a compact with the devil.

the paupers’ economy was an idea i had. there are multiple sort of pricing points in the economy. shops for rich people, shops for poor people. and for the marginalised, there is a cheaper, underground economy. counterfeit fags. stolen stuff. where there are buyers there are scoundrels making money. when people are priced out of the economy, they find or make another one.

giletdonism, chorus iii

it was a massively morbid error

to teach a generation

that the nazis were uniquely evil.

the crime of genocide

is fundamentally human

and celebrated annually

with fireworks and feasts

strong and stable,

safe in our beliefs

let us adorn for the gilet years

whatever starts with hope

will end in tears

it’s the hint of sulphur

underneath the blend

ah well, we’ll get there in the end

the nazis aren’t the only people who have tried to wipe out another race and take their land. that is also how the usa was established. but we see it differently for some reason. and it’s what israel is doing. trump has already set up a gestapo. what crimes are happening that we can’t see yet?

his false profits

i’ve seen a pandemic

and recessions,

i live in the aftermath

of depression

i’ve seen inequality

rise inexorably,

a corresponding decline

in provision

of the services required

for the good of all of us

so extinguish the myth

of the self made man

and his false profits

life has been tough for my generation. i graduated in 2008 into the great financial crisis. then we had a decade of austerity. then the culture wars – scottish nationalism, brexit, covid, anti-trans fearmongering. now we have the ai bubble and falling standards of living. and all this while the rich have got significantly richer.

inequality destroys societal cohesion. it makes societies inefficient. it makes people poor and insecure. and it is a political choice. every impoverished child, every person sleeping rough and begging – are decisions people have made about the allocation of resources.

lucy let go

a pigeon who marshalls

a hall of endless queues

lost laptop tizzy dash,

fined for excess baggage

bang to rights.

unlike lucy letby

who should be lucy let go

over doubts so reasonable

that incarceration

can not be condoned

there is no greater evil

than the power of the state

wielded against justice.

this is a bit light hearted for a protest poem, but i do think lucy letby’s conviction is unsafe. i think we are too trusting of a criminal justice system that is deeply flawed. i have jury service tomorrow and will try not to propagate any further such miscarriages. if in doubt, one must acquit.

the lost laptop tizzy dash – this was the first time this happened to me. my laptop was the same colour as the airport security tray. so i just left it in the tray. then had a nervous pang an hour later and ran back and luckily the security people had found it and returned it to me. then a few months later, at a different airport, i did the exact same thing.

obligation iii.

overwhelmed by the burden

of reciprocalgenerosity

a pang, an anxious smell,

the sense of what childhood felt like

tiramisu, creamy goo,

live laugh love

like death from above

trigger habit, sunny meditation,

why did i feel

so undeserving of love

get a kingfisher peacenik

from a funky beatnik

a bus comes to pilot us back

fifty times bigger than we needed

happy valentine’s day. i hope it wasn’t alienating for you. i hope you have romantic love in your life, if you want it. but more important are the other loves. self-love. love of your fellow humans. love of the animal kingdom and the plants that nourish us. love of the sun and the stars and of the weird place that the universe is.

growing up autistic is confusing and traumatic. being loved is difficult when you have low self worth. but everyone deserves love. every human, every plant, every creature, has intrinsic value.

lanzarote iv.

fly a magic carpet ride

on the greenback camel trail

and bury my radar

deep at wounded knee

boquerones on the lounger,

bocadillo by the sea

agree to be fleeced

for an airport charter

nintendo cheesecake

or deep fried mars bar

waitress seems genuinely surprised

by everything we say

or oder

last day jog 12k

no joint issues

hoppipolla yoga

i love eating cheese sandwiches on holiday. with a little tin of beer. then a little cake. or ten. bikes rides, lounging in the sun, loads of carbs. feeling very tempted to abondon writing for the day and book a holiday.

lanzarote iii.

lizard pulse pathos

and egrets on the gravel cut

fling a ring around the thing

regret declined burrata

fact checked on carbon i rediscover

archaeomagnetic dating,

did you know the poles

will switch

and north will

become south.

prohibito biciclette

celestial waves

lapping rusty mounds

baps boobing

a breasty boundary

round emphysema

cowboy country

before i went on the bike holiday i’d had a period of poor health that culminated in a trip to the hospital and a spinal tap. i was on medication for migranes, but it made me sluggish and slowed my heart rate down, so i started the last climb of the day a bit ahead of my pals in case i struggled. i was fine, but i got lost and had to reroute my way back and i went over some very sketchy ‘gravel’ roads. quite stressful. being lost in the desert alone is not what i hope for.

lanzarote ii.

el grifo abandonado,

aquapark de los muertos

pizza tres quesos,

no blue,

snide salad.

poolside morning yoga

and think about the future

fall asleep in my clothes

fresh from the waffle shop boys

sick in the toilet at midnight

maybe thanks

to the waffle shop boys

i eat a lot of cake on cycing holidays. on this occassion, i think the late night waffle after dinner was a refined carbohydrate too far.