Alchemisland

I know I dropped ball, one set of feet fall

In the corridors between my empty halls

Like silver beams scaffolding between Kabbalah balls

I know I played my part in the closing of her heart

Days dart by as if bound for bullseye, I’m playing Guitar Hero

Outside Rome’s burning, I am Nero

Short a fiddle

Sick of porn I’m back on the apps

Swerving whores, avoiding diddlers

I’m full of questions, Riddler

Recently single, not

Usually into this sort of thing

Ripley’s believe it or not

Ripley in the Nostromo how I’m in pants with my cat making plans for gash

I’m swiping right on anyone not explicitly a twat or a thot

You keep calm while I carry on, pictures of you with the carry on luggage in terminal one

I call ahead, tell ‘em scram, I got the bally on and a new bomb The Terminal One

Thatcher’s face drawn on

Thatcher’s grave my sawn-off rubbles

This one’s for Discharge and the Argies

Back to the app, my crooked finger like a shepherd’s crozier cramps

One moth with a shock of sunblock coloured curls, Midas’ mop

Spit of Bette Midler

None of them are mid in the pictures 

Such are social media’s strictures

Feel like an out of touch prick when I text to say I’d love to take you the pictures

Isn’t that what Bangs said and sure he’d about ten girls in his bed

Met them on the Facebook, wet them with a facefuck

A cracking bird from Bellarmine near Stepaside

A belle, the ball’s best watched the ermined step aside

Ballgown so long it’s like she’s gliding, cameras chime in with sudden flashes

A chimaera how she melds fashions, an actual alchemist, pushes

Buttons like a monkey trying Shakespeare, so far he’s done Coriolanus 

Bikini bottoms so small you don’t need a paid sub to see the anus

Bataille’s black sun, shedding black rays

In another picture she’s beside a guy in black ray bans, no wedding band

On either, find I am already making plans for how to handle him

Haven’t even messaged the girl and I’m plotting, no flight no landing

Fight myself, stop panting or it’ll be obvious you’re trying to get into panties

Cool collected I compose a message and send

Bends the world to my will

She is silky soft and white as ground pills

Medicine list and I’m not provably ill

Go through lines in my head, repeating myself like Jeff Mills

The Bells, that night I did eight lines and got off my head, vomited at the Dundrum Mill

Pond I was on one like Bill Ponderosa

This one is preternaturally pretty, Blue Rose case

Tackling this situation harder than learning Dota

Go simple and follow her lead, no fixed loyalties floating voter

Dimples like shell holes, like where moles went in it, stave postholes

Too craven by half to even grasp her dress folds

Even in guilty sex dreams, when I bend her over I spend my willy tokens quickly

Granny used to live in a haunted place called Quigley’s, it’s like I’m there now

My knees are knocking, my breath a wheeze, dark corners I stare down

A clown with tattered clothes in his mouth in the abomination-stained ruins of Porton Down.

---

Her angel-made gown blown by odd-angled wind 

Thrown up around her ankles

It is snow coloured, its hem winds up 

Pale as a pup’s bone, a bone china cup in slip-ons

She has a black slip on, chiffon blouse allows glimpses of mouse-furtive flesh

Flashes of nipple, her unbuttoned trousers permit an entrancing hand to carouse arousingly

Her rotating fingers reposed like Christ Pantokrator, going around like a carousel

I am forbidden to leave the chancel but if I get a chance I’ll bolt

Hansel how she leaves me breadcrumbs, follow them to meet me, she greets me Gretel

Princess of the petals, body like something from Heavy Metal

Boltgun metal my phone back

I’m holding when I look at the picture

I cum faster than Bolt, enough to fill a moderate tincture

I shoot off like a mauser in my trousers long before I plough her, such is her power.

---

I spend an hour with a spunked bellybutton then take a thirty minute shower

I spend it cowering in the foetal position, loathing my yellow cowardice

Maybe I could get a book out of this

We all have a book in us

In my mind, I book tickets to an evening of prick dusting and quick-busting

Busted how it feels year 3000, I can contact her more easily than I can fetch my trousers

I struggle to hook words until I bill that loud, messages come clear and loud as Dowser’s

Divinations above a ground swell or a potential well of crude oil

I am crude but not rude to show I’m not a prude, I neither intrude, make lewd comments or 

Request nudes, though I wouldn’t mind a booty shot or two, backshots in a backroom 

I can imagine us knocking back shots, blowing off cobwebs from disuse, my tube like a tomb

She practically exhumes the corpse of me, says she wants to be on fours with me

Forcefully I’m fighting away high fours I’ve got a five alive

More steps than Steps it takes forever to crest her drive

I didn’t drive over, I roved the streets like a concrete drover

Couldn’t believe she asked me to come over, no rain check

Probably she was in a coma and I’m the first person she’s seen since Macarena

Rena from Rizin how she’s cute and scary, dressed for Arena

But the magazine not the Colosseum, this was her idea

Only her Tinder pics to ID her, won’t matter if she’s a fat geezer

Along a power line three magpies in alignment like Giza

Three for a girl, an omen I’m feeling

I’m standing on her porch like she called law enforcement about her neighbour’s lawn party

In the posh garden plants in clarted pots, clumps of muck and rock stock for shocking sunflowers

Lock Stock how many I hear unlocking when she finally crops up like gunbarrel over sandbags

I wonder is this a dream because she’s wearing a black crop top

Although in my dream she had vanilla jodhpurs and a riding crop 

Hand over my local shop’s most expensive wine, thirteen quid with a vine

On the sable label

She’s able to chat as she ladles out soup starters, her top label sticking out

Her top lips dredges the spoon and recalls soup to her mouth hot fountains

She breathes out, burnt her mouth, guts some milk.

---

You might be able to tell but ask went the day well

It went very well indeed, we were wet elbow to knee

Bed for a week we didn’t leave, had shorter serious fevers

Pulling on my lever, manual driver how she handle the gearstick

Goes deep until she’s near sick, probably had Antichrist Superstar on CD kinda chick

In her day but now she’s less sacrilegious 

Vicious divorce, nice guy husband turned out litigious

Litany of leftover blisters, lived two years with her sister

How tragic her affair, like an Ovid

Moved home during Covid

For years shacked up with a banker, Richard, he was a prick but rich 

Ditched her, ran out with the maid, last she heard they were hitchhiking in Biarritz

Bad luck with boys, always shy once twice bit

As if by the influence of this story, my thoughts to her shift

Away from the slim dips and heaving hips behind her slip

To the deep wellsprings of sympathy hidden with me, sipping

From the chalice of humanity, I take her hand from my knee

And place it between my palms, my gesture is calming and pretending ends quickly

Thereafter, the blasted palisades and sundered fences mark surrendered defences

We are blessed by this event

Both vent at length about hidden things we think

Both our kitchen sinks unclogged, skeletons decloseted

Locketed hearts grow radiant, we pocket eachothers’ hearts 

We pick at threads to tease more from our partners, times we were heartless

As well as triumphs, she admits she makes art

Took it up when her partner left her stuck in her ailing mother’s parlour

Fucked off with his paramour, she looked like that bint from Paramore

Levity between the heavy stuff, two leverets grow baby fluff in the others’ company

Each day since has been sunny, milk and honey 

We banished Richie and admonish at his mention, this is a new adventure

This must be how it feels after years of rotten teeth having new dentures

Such wide cheshire smiling, I have never known such sensuousness or lack of censure

Glories leave her as incense leaves a censer, our talking cleanses us both

Thick as thieves, Thick as Ensure drink

Soon being in company proves essential, I move in without us even mentioning it

She is my medical kit, my good medicine kick, kicked many bad habits

Feeling lately more lyrical, she proves dreams are things physical 

Physical second to the social, great oceans of love and proving 

Emotional pruning as a facet of self improvement, more lampooning

And less ego boosting, though I tell her often the plain truth

Of her lunar beauty, her gelid manner an elfin aloofness, ice eyes

Thoth could not forge such sentences as I set down with you before my eyes

Goth could not reproduce the heaviness underlying our lives

Nor could anyone but God deduce the heavenslides governing our lives

We maintain our happiness by avoiding government lies, shark guiles of any kind

Neither of us hail from the Liberties, nor do we take them

Freedom fighters fight freedom, as do patriots, we are good pagans

Take a snaking Luas into town for Mexican, El Grito, grey skies greet us

Angels disguised as junkies line doorways along the quays, throng Dublin’s streets

Songsheets with odes I composed to her fire-streaked wings, her winged feet

Where I found her, Fantastic Beasts

Fanatics beat their drums, this is how we beat them

I down my thumb, my Scholae Palatinae deletes them

Scholarly patois to putdown an abattoir-due but at home it’s youtube and stupid

Voices. A love a lifetime voiceless voided all at once, we’re struck by cupid

Every morning.