Player of games, ancient of days
Work in poker, can’t even play
Maintain ways of surviving, even thriving
Dividing and conquering, wearing disguises
Divine walking mortal, sharing horizons with nobody.
No lies exist
Everything iteration of mind, infinite variation
Tongues desiring to know words from faraway lands
No scarcity of misunderstanding at home
No shortage of words for anything, especially anger
Lies what, what is seen symbols of a kind
Seeing a thing’s third essence, reflections of shadows
Themselves deferent to higher realms
Aethyrs ancient more than Samael
Further deceptions, turtles to the toes.
Fears, woes and hopes are dope conciliations conjured by the moist convex oscilloscopes groping around my countenance
Like wet clay fetishes made to smile with modelling scrapers they slip, slide and glide around their melting rink
They what when I blink?
When beloveds die salt orgasms from them, pieing cheeks pink striations
Upon my black collar bitter lakes poldering, pondering those gone
Graven stations walls emblazon route to Golgotha
Breath intaking steeply beneath steeple of people and nation though that relationship is currently strained
Hunched shoulders keeping lobes company, as at Notre Dame’s Easter Feast tintinnabulations
In battle, during warp spasm, rising high above spiked hair in triumph.
Cú Chulainn, old dog new ways
Ill on pipes, I packed the bowl tight it’s not even nine
Reigniting what’s still in my system from last night, 420 sick
Insides resembling waxy walls Xenomorphs built LV426, lattice of resins hawked free
Some day I will cough up my essence or get sense before it
Hence I go to my wheelie bin with good intention, cast out this wand of censure
Of whose embrace I grow o’erfond
Ground fronds down green dust, muscle twisting amount stuffed in
Sylvan alchemy, drams of green alcohol; its foam fantasy
Grinder silver bronzed with prolonged usage
Bong neck blackened like giraffe lacking, hadn’t packed holiday lotion
Room ponging old bongs, humming of spent hash
Bags stuffed in socks and drawers, in pockets, down couch sides, on bedroom lockers
Lilies on a pond, my hands thronging my face constantly, tugging beard hairs leaving my once hirsute face patchier than De Vere’s fringe
Tried throwing them away but couldn’t.
Uilleann pipes, pay pipers to ply rodents
Pray roadwise go, pry from Hamelin long child lines
I cast the javelin of my word breastward, those I would impress
Doing impressions of many mentors
Sagely centaurs taught medicine and misdemeanour
Necessary to psyche’s formation, Nessus of wit and fetlock educated me
Gifted onomancy, name obfuscation days when Babylon was raised
Utnapishtim in front of whom Gilgamesh slept creation’s duration
Robert Graves’ tales of Thessalian Deucalion immortal imammalian, Prometheus’ son, who too survived a flood
Rufus Noah ark roofing, fitting dome under will pass dark days surpassing.
In shaking temples forefather urns fall, scattering ashes across flags
Smashed statues tumble splashing into thrashing waters
Breeze-mutated tsunamis in height embarrassing Earth’s insurmountable mountains cutlassing knees and heels of our giants
Broken inkwell ichor flowing from out of soul-embossed Talos, whose raised hand blotted the sun
Laughter from high battlements, brine-spiting, Watchers quaff from sagging wineskins
Live to see towers toppling but not peace’s dove circling, nor a new sun dappling corpse-choked waters
Nor tidal recession after time revealing climes new
Decked with diamonds, coruscating verdigris, vernix strewn along new and varnished surfaces
No surfeit only breaking surf, trees sagging with fresh fruit
Bootless distances and heretofore undreamt skylines
Simultaneous routing of all recalcitrant factions
Ferrous stubborn April Aries Mars-licked
Profound and tremendous martial action as at Actium
Impensieve tides masked with flotsam jetsam
Imperious eyes painted on galley prows sporting proud Athena sundered sinking to sedge, where imperial standards to man’s evil zenith sand over
Disbanding of all populations, Isiah eyes higher
Crevassed psyche of a flood survivor, paranoid about genocidal idols
My spiralling mind is a tyrant’s bride, made the conjure vileness
This phial which sends me Deggial on a ship of smiles
Vial of verdant tiredness which is never far from my pocket and soothes me during all trials
Bridles the bony piebald I will ride at the apocalypse.
Alchemisland 
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