Alchemisland

I move from my zone to the outlands, the woods

I don’t sink into the loam, Loma footwork the works the words 

Black pudding sky with budgie yellow stars budged to Earth unkneeling

Unveil a budget pale with old debt, scan the day’s deaths unfeeling

My miseries come in waves, my ship is always keeling

I haven’t yet found myself, though I have been peeling

Finally a feeling then like that it’s gone, like a hauntling

I solve the riddle of steel, you wonder what granny to rob

Rifling through what you steal and pocketing the few bob.