Alchemisland

Verse strips me, cajoles my naked limbs 

Bends, almost trips me, checks my hole for arms

Checks my arm for holes; heroin entrances.

Exits everywhere each more blissfully silencing 

Long and pointless poem ends with death, final phlegmonous breath agonised

Reading my body’s banded runes as the book of the man

If human eyes ere beheld truth, it was before my time or yours

Ninety nine of one hundred men will cohere to tyranny and bake bricks for Nimrod

Broke cofferless collared cowards will bring forth evil, breaking backs to build Babel’s battlements

At news so grave, man’s heart the grave of any other man he meets, the hundredth kneels to bake his brick

All along the line is thick, straight as Nimrod’s measuring stick

Mighty hunter before the lord

Many eyed monarchs, durationally lemniscatic, swam the static like an offed TV’s dream of sharks

Wonders before the lord came, which wise wonderworker has his Son’s demise fashioned

Straits in their names, old death glory, byword now for fleeting flames, fastest fames 

Fastest car’s curse highlighted by Kwai builder, Kenbenobi with powers like Benbulben’s denizens, yet Dean drives off

Green cars like green notions will fetch death sharpish

Unwary bones as warning signs to the ginger gaited, each furtive foot assured.

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Your eyes some hating most simply wondering attempt the words

Vivid images refusing to mesh, failed diptych, nauseating contrast, failed alchemical hermaphrodite

How it feels to hear aliens, maybe

Early electronic music utterly singular, the still-straight-laced awaiting God’s imminent murder in ecstasy

Newness – implied the achieve of – like punk hydra, thirty bands for every one and only four chords to go around

X-ray spex I bought from a magazine back arrive pungent nosewrinklers even bagged

Dicyanin dye coats the goggles, suddenly my toggle turns receiver deceiver I can ogle demons

Hell is a hundred times full, hoghead legion wardens earn their pustules, Hathor’s myrmidons

Whole world turned to burnt salient; scrapbooks of ruined Marnes, shell smashed Somme fed with corn kings, broken Ypres, broken Vimy, broken Mammetz 

Live tonight sold out, they love you love she hates you, shotgun out of your mouth

Swore you did not have one, bleach tippexing over your lies, teenagers dying when you died.

Every seat is taken, stands and tiers and tears some too

All of you, then all the rest, plus the demons I mentioned to you

Concert hall, lith and roll

Listening with peeled eyes, the knowitall drolls the diehard proles 

Auditorium full of critics

Thinkers, thicks and tryers betwixt

Good line prompts laugh, elbow sticks to ribs of next

Like sex in that it’s dark with holes occupied

Yoga teacher arrives early during acting classes and watches through a crack while the hall is occupied

Rum and uncanny vibe sweeps the aisles, Bix Barton chewing it over like a toothstuck lardon

Persistence is all, show must go on

Resistance futile, foes at dawn respawn

Cornucopia of cads and cowards, torn betweens and can’t cope with you

Horn of fiends daily defying entropy, massing of enemies, shore sides soldierful 

His best friend’s hands exploring the tundra of his lover’s back like ether-zonked snakes 

Sitting on it this rare egg, stewing over, index brandished in aspersion

Bold as the Fianna his raised blood finding boldness, ferrous feeling

“I seen ya, keen at it”