Eats road like Cormac McCarthy’s shredder, goes like a V2
My arrival causes stress, like an imminent #metoo
More options than two twenty sided dice
More waiting holes than household fulla mice
Veto over your life, a Don, only bam from my acme mallet
Junkie viking funeral on a Tesco palette
Screeching halt, landing hard like a crit hit
Stirred dusts sit. Step out in retro fits
Lock up over shoulder, sports ting kit
Billed spliff lets me retrofit, refitting my shit with every hit
Mental gym rat, ride a pommel horse til it shits
Rocking horse full of Greeks, with every forward surge an oil thirsty creak
Creeping around new love, ghosts of dead lovers
Alone with a candle, yet I sense others
Mirror in a dark room, phone torch the only light
Eyes rolling like slot pictures
Curling smoke I almost choke
High as Ezekiel’s odometer, Babel tip, Abraj chronometer
Inside a kitchen cupboard psychomanteum, uncrackable sigils unseen in the dark
Pulling forth unlikelihoods,
Byzantium from Byzas, empire from a goat
Beginning from a word, universe from a throat
Lights grow, dim image of a red chrysanthemum
Dizzying kaleidoscopic byzantium
Alchemisland 
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