Alchemisland

White pudding burnt black in the frying pan

Fuck a diet plan, plan a heart attack at fifty

Dirty fry up, fries on the side in a greasy spoon at 9 AM with a Sprite can

Dippy eggs and toast that’s crispy

No beans extra rasher instead, they’re even frying the bread

Grease soaks into Brennan’s with extra butter, clogs innards clutter, sentence death

Chest pains near enough to the big one, have ya in tears wheezing on the back stairs, hiding it from Claire at dinner, hair all sweaty and messy and something clearly wrong with this picture

Bathed in oil like held a battering ram, mustard coils around the back cut ham glazed and crumbed

I almost cum but I hold it back for the sake of the snack

My smacking lips like a bird-nagging cat

When it happens it’s like a gun or power of false suns pouring scorn over poor Nagasaki

Lumps found in my sack and they aren’t extra presents Santa never felt against his back

Big black smudge on the x-ray, ixnay on the death ray Darth Vader, know you’re my padre and Padme was my mommay

You’ve had your moment now shut it or I’ll stove your helmet in with a butt plate on a back lane on Tatooine.