Alchemisland

Kitten got a subscription to a library of stories, had to give up life for it 

Cat o nine tales 

Last night courting immortality I took a dose of silphium; still feel em

I wanted Olympian power, a swimmer’s prowess through the clouds

Stationary finding a still freedom, my pills I don’t need them

My veins crisscrossed like the twisted reigns of a bolting horse

My eyes and knees switch places, my shoulders displace

Occupying more space than previously, the berserk of the Norse 

Warp spasm of old Cuchulainn who with hard sliotar kicked dog fuck in

Gelert’s grave tells the tale of loyalty’s wage

In greyfriars, an off the Bill Bobby guards a grave a thankless charge

He letharges on the lith, arches and darkness girdle his yard

Dogs will love a bastard, will blame themselves for an owner’s mistreatment

Will growl away buzzards and lay prone until his subsequent ceasement

Sif great and grey like complex tax breaks refuses dismissal, 

His master’s estate, his master’s poor state abyssal.

Epistle on pure love of dogs man’s best friend

Sharp, long needle like a hoplite’s pylum, sharpened stylus pointer

Needful, moreish, I pile them Ineedum

Without the burn and hurt, constant thirst, I have no freedom

Anull whatever deed I signed

A skull portcullis ugly mind.