The New Totalitarianism (A Neo-Samizdat poem)

“(…) I myself create it,

edit it,

censor it,

publish it,

distribute it, and… 

get imprisoned for it. (…)” 

Vladimir Bukovsky

The New Totalitarianism (A Neo-Samizdat Poem)


Working on themes handed down from above

We don’t know what they’re for-


As inhuman-

The frenetic race of fingers

That seems to speak the mumbling cacophony of

‘Don’t pick me!’

The Party is over.


The stiffness of the Worker’s fingers

There’s nothing but mist outside the window

Illuminated by a hovering helicopter spotlights

As black-clad entities drop through the roof of terraced homes

And 1930’s Hackney flats.


Everyone dreams,

When thought is terrorism ‘distempering worst calamity’


Ignorance is strength,

When Kitten photos maintain hegemony.


Streets and back alleys

Become Black light theatres

When Black light-

All light-

Is contraband.

Decreed by a Corona of Control

From the virtuous leaders.


To be mentally purged and purged

And purged again by a carbon copy of corruption.

The enemy of the People.


Poetry and the people

A new meme of

(Destabilisation; Decentralisation)

Planetary Bureaucracy.

(Dissemination; Dissent)


‘One twenty, three-quarters empty’

As the dissenting dwarf dwarfed

By Canary Wharf

Read Larkin

Where the real Refuseniks

Read The Financial Times


-Glassy facades of towers

They came to take him away almost immediately

Nobody saw anything.

But paradoxically they all did.

Fear is a prison.


Popping bubblewrap ‘til Doomsday

Will I ever take a plane-

A train-

Your way?

Black listed.

I never heard to which centre they were sent-

Where did they go?


Popping bubblewrap ‘till Doomsday

Has become the new apathetic motif.

In an empty West London studio-

Hotel linen piled high-

Coloured with fleshy oil smears that belonged to an artist

London is empty-

Desolate except-

For flies feasting on faeces.


Popping bubblewrap ‘til Doomsday

Don’t want to say

Curl into a default foetus on the floor

And stay


As they break down the door

Deluded to envisaged a better day. 

Popping bubblewrap until Doomsday.


Nowhere, nobody.

No neutrinos, nothing.