Alchemisland

Blood Meridian sells only 1800

Nine years at typewriter thundering

For less than a millennium receipts

Floundering broke asks, where am I blundering? 

Knows is good; Is great; the greatest. 

Yet can’t write way out of that fate;

Some sticky things bound are designate 

Happenstance, long gesting plans; inchoate, 

When world was old, not born yet, or ice over every inch of it. 

Changed publisher, simplified it, sold a bunch; cinched it.