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7 Poems by Cole Denyer

Updated: Jun 19, 2019

To The Huts


nerve presets

next to my

accomplished alarm

locked day and

night out

livid in cellulose

its orbital home moving

stupid liquid forever

in the curing

of sleep you can

not decline

that fillings excite

the big zeroes

as crown pains

camp in

the baked sky

diagnoses the fracas

as illustrated trauma

made the bloodline

mute the vein

in circulation,

our ears are

now in excellent

condition as the sound

is almost always

awful clocking

scathes the hum

about the streets

struck the throat

with blood

padlocked bursts-

that is proof enough

never counts

feral under

baton rounded

cost pride into a

large bolus, its texture

marbles the larynx charge

of lifetime disposals

the turret

speaks what is won,

chokes the sky and

crosses it through

now the cadastre

sings out uptake

the floating

scale matured chime

kick lock free

for the voice sealed

in the ring outcry,

no one wants to see

the ballistic

gelatine record

since it has decreed

the air already

mixed with bone

in the panic

rotor see from the

bioethical shard

between the blind shutters

no jobs marches

amok over

the proud varicose

fat on sun-loungers,

watch the juvenile

lash out now watch

the choppy sink

in badlands the saturnalia

so eat the

chicken-wings

gilded in a

better hour

as price phthalates

byte misfortune

is destined to play

out icy pour

the singing polymer,

a countless heartbeat

or glucose decant burnt

off nothing

which fire pales

in the fumes

and ash more to

ameliorate than paraffin,

to do justice by

that carbide with

muddy roots in zero

for the belly and

so to the ground

just sat there

in urgent moral

appeal or not

for turning away

palisades care

as it gets meted out

with song of

betwixt burning

behind our backs

and outside

lacquer the concrete

intumescent

you see them



Union Jack Poncho Emergency


(1/3)


Of a smart new

tent push on

the fence watching

you birdie like grow

the balcony wild

we start to

count three, two, one

want to watch

them eat a testicle

we are told smells

of sausage returning

to watch them

on the fences you

pot that mad

dead adult near perfect

child impress the bunker

makes you feel

that bypass over

cleared checkpoints

door reopens says

now that was

a tracking shot


(2/3)


As by tying

or wrapping to

touch this stock

with speculum brand

the blurred caloric engine

is a poncho emergency

on the perimeter of

quarantine or Homeland


(3/3)


You’re on

that balcony with those

model dream hands

running out

the petrol smells

are those future

kidney transplants

your children need



The Souls Love Of Peace Is A Fascist Vote


(1/2)


More through into

hearts and minds

the balcony

like manna out of

thinning air

high levels of

dioxides, asbestos

and heavy metals

promise to rebrand

empty land sured

up to trickle down

as backwater

pinioned national

bunkers to nurture

galley kitchen venture

arrested in the

carbuncle of a quart

of decimated milk

life firstly is

work and secondly

it is relaxing company

pleasures the audience

chamber around the

mosquito dispersal

observable

by the age of 18

you still have

to live in the instant

value drives back

customers to

reseal dog-eared

putsch these ones

over there wanting

to see them be

dogs again burnt

bricks again run out

again the

mobility curfew

again hanging

off dad again

not to be a

sad tranquilliser,

in protective

gear the cell

is gelid mamma

where are the

henchmen?

deteriorated most

in human ears

from congregating

outdoors the child

factory you see where

the community

of risk would hold

up the workable state

shingle breaking from

meal stock of dearth

but it can appear on your

face, eyes and genitals




At The Chelsea Flower Show Pigs Cannot Serve As Asymptomatic Carriers


drive petals into poor,

love is keening in to

free pleat

having been there

leat breath

accepting with

bearers fix the fruit

land as it edits

against the complete

sprig coup you can-

as all good things

must find out

how to fillet wall

as the thinnest stock choice

or waiting at this up hedge

in yours which it

empties with us the same

table as much wide

as earth to a good cause

interrupted into the faintest

summit of burning runs

over the energy of metal

as this we speak for on

poor wraith

is the road we pay

into land your high eyelid

with rain compounds

their footbridge

a report on the

open market in

capillary break sounds

impossible on a

double-decker

routemaster bus turns

first as the rain screen

is the siding itself

from getting wet

in a private garden

platform the remotest

choice of hate suckles

the switch nurse fine

in vacancy and

fairings clock a

fault right down

deep to show the peel

back of the face into

refuted tender for each acre

is foot and mouth

as instrument clearing

in honest starred lathe

too early too late



100% proper burgers


Natural and civic

wish georgic oranges

people reach

out we switch to

eau minérale naturelle at

love overseas,

what dimension

the heartland splinter

thinks the topsoil

is not known

contamination measure traps

you in a fake meeting carried

out during the summer

over mantric rabies

for salved persuasion

only you

thought you

could escape

100% proper Burgers




This publication is in copyright to Cole Denyer 2019 and may not be reproduced without the approval of the87press or the author. Cole Denyer (1994) is an artist and poet based and working in London. His self-published works include Postukolypmics (2017), HMSKS (2018), Your Legal Stay Has Ended (2018) and The Housing Act 1985 (forthcoming). Recent artistic projects include: War-Pig, Local Project Space, (2017), and ’Party Politics’, Lima Zulu 2 (2018). He also organises Rest Breaks, a poetry and performance event series. 

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