You feed five thousand with your tuna, praise Fortuna
Mercury levels higher than in a Chinese tomb
Silverine sliver like a river of melted spoons
I chew through Attenborough’s camera crew when they come in view of my reef
On sight beef, have a sea cow, man, bared teeth my action plan is active grief
My barracuda thoughts cigar around like Cuba
When authorities queue where I lease, they least expect that secret backpath
My jetpack firestacks impact the environs, I’m like Telemachus hearing nearby sirens
On foot they hot foot from up here like Hopi ant people, they are tiring
Streets striations in a vast latticine formation, odd orientations
Specifically measures angles, more like a cathedral than a suburban estate
What dark fates are invited by knife rites, what provokes this passive state.
Me stressball full of knives, exist to cause strife
Mind is a bad thing to waste but I’ll take life
Headbutt your halibut into the plate before I drag your face there
White sauce filling your nostrils, parsley stuck in your bedraggled hair
In Ireland if you exaggerate they ask you are you codding me
When you pen hyperbole I smoke the cod act chipper please
When you scríobh hyperbole, my boxing ain’t got plodding
When your shit encircles me, all action scenes no plotting.
I’m Robert Graves beyond his grave, nursing oldest flame
Of fame we remark goodbye to all that
Of you departing, they remark good riddance to that twat
It’s grave you’re here robbing, at raves the strobes throbbing but in raids you’re singsonging
Won’t meet my eyes I thought fine, a sure sign that he’s chatting to the porcine over pork pies
Bet you never met a Met you didn’t commit to, never took a breath or step that didn’t fruit ineptitude.
Alchemisland 
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