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 reciprocal generosity
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 order
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. bike rides, lounging in the sun, loads of carbs. feeling very tempted to abandon 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 migraines, 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 cycling holidays. on this occasion, i think the late night waffle after dinner was a refined carbohydrate too far.