Alchemisland

Moons glowering at all of us

Spire towering, abhorring us

Jutting up like a vast syringe

Totem black tar heroin binge

Barney’s Laneway don’t go back there

Rusty knife boys selling crack there

Go another way to go into the Sackville for your nightly Satzenbrau

Can’t use names because town is tiny but someone’s husband’s body washed up on Killiney

In a suitcase; not all of him, not much of him at all, munched and made mincemeat

A gangster maybe who had it coming, still god love the poor woman 

Cor Blimey he was a Corbally, perhaps got on the wrong side of Belfast bally wearers

Got himself a permanent holiday in Ballymurder, by way of BallyJamesDead

James Deaning through the centrepiece, windowscreen masterpiece

Expecting to tear through the other side of a movie theatre screen

Screech through a tear and roar out into the Savoy just as patrons begin to enjoy 2005 horror White Noise

Michael Keaton or Stallone Cobra how I loathe scum on these streets

Final phase of goddess now, kali yuga strifeful age, sour chunky milk the withered crone teet feeds

We the bleating lambs lap it up

Lapse in judgement very rare for me, like cryptid sighting

My glass pendant juggles at my breast laden with lapis lazuli, it’s like two diamond glass apes fighting

Frightening how brightening it reflects sunlight like indoor lightning

Lightbringer only in how I’m joint lighting

My urges the only thing I’m not fighting

Keen at fistics, no strikes landed, no hits clean that’s Striknein

I duck twist your swinging fist bricks, send back a rib kick I know hurts

Hertz how quick I cycle back from battle, my land carving chariot prattles over the cobbles

Planets hang in the sky like God’s christmas baubles, gas giant flambeau 

Meanwhile, I’m rapt by your style, what you’re wrapped in a gift delivered just for me

You look like how bells sound, fortress-fit your hill rounds far off the ground

Your smile sends me heavenward

I can’t talk so I just smile

Mute Tarzan, just point and imply, should be swinging on vines

The first love long as a Vine, the next lasts longer, you give neck longer

My throttle like a wine bottle 

Not just any thot’ll do

Not just any sort’ll do

Streets melting past going 90 easy, cheetah fast its peasy in the beamer.