UNISONActive is an unofficial blog produced by UNISON activists for UNISON activists. Bringing news, briefings and events from a progressive left perspective.

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Rise to Order by Gareth Farmer

I - Rational, these isles tumble under rain and pleasant brisks
from abroad, clamming in via networks semi-conducive and
compelling. Extreme concern expands and worstens the hearths
of a country balancing smarter socialism with surveil-lances perked,
becoming an edgy parade of loaned lines and quick-ripened truncheons.
Militants survey definitions rising out from the abstract,
prick-pocked map, pawn-shifting mortal threats whilst hit-
costs vitiate a legacy and decisions wince with recognition.
Opposition and opposing views provide fiscal family pains;
budget and fathom cyclic numbers as efficiency-
savings unravel in the rubbish piling on the street corners.
              As ever, concrete comes to the rescue, after which fossils claim
future word bodies, imprinted by aid handing out medicaments.
It always happens whilst pilgrims insouciantly stroll, wrists
tied away from their body like he’s fishing for compliments.
It’s a victory, as predicted, and no more de-spiriting for that,
where clouds of doubt cleanse and the hard-fought fireworks
& champagne sings overheads, showering a crowd’s crowns
with grim assignation: keep me secure with statistics, O Lord.
Maws gape for places, placards, placebos with which the country
churns futures lining edu-queues, miserable and knowing it.

II - In form and in crease and, well edited, make as if to convince.
It spreads amid the panic of etymology which connects
such controversy and is ceremonial after all. Memorialise.
Franchise and transfer pulsating flags oddly.
Comrades in clean-washed foisted fears lament with a piper tempering
the no-gos. This changes the banner-up expenses liberally scattered
over the wire. “These are very big changes,” forcing, squeezing
big, fat words through corset-training, pursued by a whipped
cream smile referring to faces mag-nameless and pixel-pocked.
It’s not a headline but South America boils off eggs with defective
chicken juice and with without-washed dirty brown hands. Deservedly.
Today, sagely, the Ministry of Concern prepares a palliate dish of
capital numbers to bamboozle into bankruptcy a billion bears.
                       Like, we must look at new genetics.
                       Like, solar powered beef and sheep.
Such luminous partnerships collapse, owing support networks,
and benefit, clamouring onto pathways and shut down-turns.
Red still expelled after spies leak relations honourably
mini-skirted and with a servile grimace, traipsed a hard-won.
Central justice surprises with a car’s aplomb
injuring a leg-acy blood-won aegis ago and stutter-
assaulted on eyes all over a world fashioned out of
Styrofoam, penicillin and those, like, small, circuit-board things.
Hiving was a sleight of hand last manufactured
in 1914, but generations have receded in shared shelves,
popping piano wires like sweets and exporting niches

III - It spurts through a journalese of human shields,
trotting to the pale pace of intention. Peace beckons it
with brave military logic making it humanitarian. It
becomes the gurn of the opposition also taking to the
streets after a president looks to be tramping down where
broken glass can still be discerned. It rounds people up
despite the declared amnesty alleging brutality
with a megaphonic smile behind which a
a young journalist phrases a cower, lexi-dextrous.
She is under conditions so a lawyer proxies diligently
filling detail with such things as ‘flash-mob’ and ‘ring-
leader’ represented against alleged torture mimeod and
caveat in mind-swap palimpsest denial also
pricked and alert in spinnied concessions.
        Such Easter doxology excludes unless
demands are met over alleged minority and wealth gaps.
Throw me economic impoverishment and I’ll show you a
slice of my report-back. Fuck the watershed and ownership
and mark-up the training manual where points create profit.
This is the biggest alleged bank I could find, a prison
for banjaxed words. Forensic science can’t help
but down-play the alleged enabler via institutional malaprop.
Hands up to positive discrimination, sold off in a compositional
regime change over which criticism jigs its prescribed dance.
Where who you know becomes a technical know-who.
Beneficent artworks, really facing buying chunks
serving the family-owned, family-run platters as convincing
aperitif despite the alleged black pudding Sunday mourning wretch.
Thrive in the new wake-up jingle and make possible
by positive thought, cronyism and surety of countenance.
Education skips the heart homewards in pathologies
shared indexically with a good night’s sleep for all.
Sooth-settle under dark-art banners of controversy
which constitute the survival and sense-made of the here and now.
Power alleges in the bomb-bright dawn and startles in a child’s face.