nightmare in the uk

riding sprightly scooter bikes
licorice vespas pink lambrettas 
cavalcading in the rain
down to brighton for a reckoning

simon templar shiny hair
choke him with his braided tie
like it cis and like it white
like it funny and like it tight

clumsy artist is a creep
devotee of self hypgnosis
new perversions old excuses
got a bag of dead man wigs

swilling at the bacon house
blackouts here are very dicey
models meek have come to grief
awoken bound to posing frames

pining for an age of stretchings
plates of metal blocks of wood
done with all this painted canvas
all conventions understood


pleasant were the cups of tea
brought to bedroom by my hostess
hand the clouds of milk still swirling
with the turning of the world

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