So I wasn’t wrong all along the line of thought, the new developments, the crammped spaces in designated areas. Self sufficiency had taken to new highs, we were becoming population heavy the undertakers couldn’t cope in the middle of civil unrest, the council couldn’t cope to the reaction, to their planning, unfinished housing, shit spinning in empty cement mixers. Everyone now did smell and the dying were dead, so came to pass the small oblong buildings.
They were between the once bright flats they housed the dead where undertakers feared to tread, this is new Britain, civil destruction society torn and burning a government in retreat MP had fled to hide this country in mutinous madness evil is the mistress
of the turgid toilet of a country where manners ( manners) is the name of a house.
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Author: Mason Cult Poet
Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning..
What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this
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