Alchemisland

Roll up a piff, boy

Boot up that game toy

Shining my pip boy 

Primm sheriff lost boys.

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Landscape palimpsest of extinct styles, bandos where radroaches hide

Ghoul’s rusted lancet breaches my cardoor breastplate, there will be Fallout from this

Last night for supper had scorpion, half-diced a man’s daughter hungry radscorpions

Primm properly like something from a book about prospectors panning for gold

Gold’s old, new currency how cold you’ll go, how quick you’ll do a man for a good turn when he turns

When a trader comes to you flaunting the bag his brahmin copping bullets, tags and a body bag

My sack sags with caps, 

Agape I preach but no treaty’ll stay my breaching, my upreaching

Stealing from the brotherhood, my power armour the grand drama of my bare audacity

I plug the sentries, crunch doors with semtex, load up fast’n’flee.

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Hazmat suit got a rip in it

It Van Winkles open, RIP enscripted

Stat check on a terminal that’s encrypted, a crypt of cryptids control of the sentries such advantage would gift us

Pureheads call the third one Van Buren

I’m not one to RP, fast cycling dialogue trees, not in any way shape or form a purist

Hardliners call me a tourist, n00bper mutant

I’m here to see what haunts the empty silos, great graves for ICBMs

Which flew like witches with wet lips from sustained posterior kissing before the End

I’m here for insane prototypes, nauseating new phenotypes

Genetically created cenobites, cultic brute nu-Aztec tribes.

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Powder gangers haunt its reaches

Gates formerly part of some larger structure pray deathclaws won’t breach it

Mentat munchers made momentary hierophants, no cap I found caps in a super mutant flesh sack

Settlements squeezed for protection, be a shame if anything happened

Caesar’s legion a band of sandalled leeches 

Teachers features creatures peaches mad preachers

Night desert’s winter, under thick layers the tramp wrapped like a coaxial

Rumours from the north of birds, twice a Thunderbird, a quetzalcoatl 

Its lair in layers of squalor, unswallowed bones 

Every door is a window into a Cazadore hive.