When not particularly articulate at all, the slave master will fall like a fool
School the fiends with piscine intentions
Descale the scope, clean springs with soap
Don’t mention the tension, tendons will snap
A new craphole torn with the decap attack
Slack-jawed, I get more than some of your awe
Swim to me liege with your gun or your oar

Don’t think I won’t tip boats
Don’t think I won’t slit throats
Don’t think I won’t spill moats
Don’t think I won’t kill folks

Magical hats, manacled facts
Animals hatch from the seminal crack
Snacking on nutsacks for the repercussions
You didn’t forge the bolts but you reconduct them
Hedging bets, pearls curl on epaulettes
The bourgeois have too far to fall to regret
Maybe you’ll learn & spurn it instead, but likely you’ll labour, lost till you’re dead
Same monster, different head
Each stir is a slur on fleurs, salts the bed
The whirring of curs makes waves, stays resistance
& every thought you think is malignant

Disengage & eat this
Risking fate is ceaseless
Burst from the hurt & self-restitch
Believe you’re a free bitch

While you gurgle like a baby in a craven haze, they spurt indoctrination from your favoured place
Lurching like an urchin in a daily maze
Stars shine on a granite planet, seared & braised
Warden off-site so you see the traffic…through double-glazed panes as you beat the plastic
Holes are massive, mole enacted, while your feet tramp like British elastic

Retroactive reason
Sense detaches, leaves them
Catching snatches, beacons
Paralactic demons

Remaining static & rigid should be a source of shame, but in the same ship this deportment is the game
Perspicacity a talent unenamoured
Duplicity the key, so we abandon valour
I say “we” in an effort to lower me & anchor my aureate heart in their languor
But the truth is I soar through, raw-toothed
Bored with laws & uniform roots
Storming swarms with warning forms, scorning unrewarding norms
This is war, this is more, this is what this life is for

Cosmic triggers guide me
Rich ligatures type me
Horologic nights breathe
Idea strands which I weave

I oppose this necrosis, sitting still swallowing the falsely obvious like a bitter pill
& I loathe poses, misuse of the utensil meant to be pencilling roses
Phonemes foam like cloned halitosis, like an embolus stoning the boneless
Forgoing metempsychosis for abdication, roaming life homeless

Fruits of labour, dole drums
Eaten whole they fold, numb
Beaten by the cold, stunned lumpenproles extol thumbs

Standing still gives me vertigo & nausea
Only motion is euphoria
Before I die I’ll shake, rattle & roll…
Actually I won’t, but don’t it sound clever, though?

If belief is the death of intelligence then religion is the progeny of stupidity
Androgyny is undeniable, gender binary childish, bitch my place is pliable
If skin colour functions you being hurtful, this only proves that cuntery is universal
Life is nonverbal
You make words hurdles to encircle the vernal
Converted to commercial

Morsel’s coda comes soon
Portal over, run through
Comb with fingers, fine-toothed
Hope it lingers, I’m mute