in uxbridge.

Meek and mawkish junior stars

Insipid and Topshop-thin, think

Nothing is,

Except for the win -

The baby blankets

Youthful ambition's wrapped within.

Age is four-score nonsense.

Here, amidst concrete study blocks,

Bamboo garden furniture and papercups

You'll see everything blooms once

And only once

The rent is spent and the dreams are bent

The students loll around outside libraries

And said study blocks,

As beautiful and vague as idle flowers

Daddy's go-getting swine lunging to

Lick the ears of the

Quiet, obtainable ones,

Cider cans find use in urine or ash depositories,

Some man's fingers provide source of olfactory entertainment

Similarly: ideals are expressed solely

In the choice of hair and clothing .:

Furthermore, op. cit. page 94...

“I confess I thought very little round that time“

Lies spluttered splenetically in the new pubs:

In debates over dark matter,

Some bathetic sod reveals

Contemplation of own heart provokes digust.

Ingenious winner had to switch off the depressing news.

Liar! Liar!

Word exploiters dressed in primary colours,

I admire your idleness.

Defy all calls to make the most of it, or

Just get on with it – these are the words

Of just quite-so breathing bores

They live as double-negatives: cash-lit, touchpad faces.

Time without direction makes me anxious.

Myself and a cold cup of coffee

Find ourselves waiting here for precisely nothing.

I have no nails left to eat.

Without pleasure or pain I rip

Rip my failings, arranging the shreds in careful pyramids.

Childlike flaneur pens truth on curdled cream paper:

I admit the modern person is forever moving,

And the modern delusion is that somehow

Every movement can matter,

One step further

From ever-encroaching failure

But I only get Sundays for this pleasure

And I never notice that flowers are forever occupied

With being beautiful, the love with which they bloom and

Expel their seed, and though plucked so easily,

For a moment they are wonderful,

Perhaps, possibly, that's what matters.