Alchemisland

Anthrax-tinged winds winnowing through nuke-bared trees

Cold as the windowless, hissing like geese the burning steels

Kissing her feet while the burning steals

The world around us, even the ground dust

Is dangerous, another mushrooming nighttime sunrise 

Demise of some great nation

Violet light like an auric field around the stricken power station

I can already feel this one landed closer than the last

I can feel heat from the blast, it shears the plaster off the walls 

Beware the dustfalls, in which the devil walks

Wonder what was the last thing we smiled at

A picture of us watching Jeopardy in the old Tallaght flat

The bike beside the heater, it always had a flat

I turn the dial like cooking bacon, I prefer it without the fat

I tune into the emergency station, any frequency will do, it crackles and chatters back

A paperback copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover I’ve been wiping my ass with

An empty Chesterton, just the cover and dustjacket

Our bare larder is severely lacking, mandating prompt action

I fetch my jacket from the hook and my gas mask from the nook

Outside a land of dust and ghosts, the world of the holy book

Troopers recently came this way, I can see the route they took

I go the other way, tucking down lanes, I fear to meet Puck.