Alchemisland

In a birthday card it’s something trite

In my cold car back it’s a midnight ride

It’s a horrible daylike night

Type of eve that man’ll cop a wolf bite

Noises get lost and boys get lost in the wood at night

Accounts of old murder, I’m on the count, count dracula 

Three counts on which you can indict, other two I did but I’ll fight for a sentence that’s light, something cushty nice

I’m a pastry crust full of spoiled meat, guilty pie the steam that rise from you sniff lies 

If you go messing around boats at night

Hear the wind whip the willows, prepare to see a frightful sight

A sight that scars the eyesome night, sights which invoke Evil’s delight

You better hope your sleight chances slide to likely, hurting delights me

Violence vocation, church doctrinal my creed, violence is poem seed see

Don’t come to the place where there’s no light

Blotches within the night antilight near vantablack; black as blight

Little hell pockets where the good dies that fights

Fatuous with your life, you’ll see the pathside lights infernal, ignis fatuus

Buckled like clothes old fashioned, there’s no snow but I’m dashing

Driving fast, in the seat low like a dachshund

Stars are old lights, paste tense The Shunning, briars and gorse I’m running

What I’ve done is horrible but I feel my growing power

Like a dunked witch dripping stepping out from the shower

I masturbate for all hell, on Yelp 5 starring Bates Motel

Craving something she’s the one I ring, the ring of Gower

Three rings the rings of power she lets it ring then “What do you call this hour?”

Between my legs great wobbling stamen of night’s flower

She need only pluck the apple and I’m tasting sour

It’s still Eve and I don’t give Adam, no getting even in Eden eager pour my seed in; dour

Humour, fielding calls at this hour, field of corn, cornflower blue the dress she ons. “Hour.”

With paper I drop firebombs like Dresden, cold dead hands pen clutch Charlton Heston

Omega far from alpha, rat king in the rat’s den still a rat, dirty mess tin

I eat from, plateless my house, platelets my blood erases other blood, her ride rolls in

Should have known it was wrong, sneezed and she blessed him

And he winced and tossed salt, as if to bless was the worst sin

Nude in the threshold her fetters discard

The blood is up like I’ve freshly sparred, red as red the fox Reynard

Like a December piss in the midwest, I’m instantly hard 

She bounces on it, my two fingers pillared 

I film her indulgence, the camera the metal the flesh it’s like Ballard

Croaking choking the make ups marred

I’m umpire of the rising scum, the risen Son on a wood cross slung

Spear point from Longinus through lung 

Soaked and soggy, her vaginas mine, it’s three minus

I’m diving and touching and finding gold I’m like Midas.