Alchemisland

Centuries of endless boredom end

Stirring suddenly, repulsing dust

I must I must I must I must

At first my fussing mind tells me I am tired

It mires me in anxieties, like manacles feet unfreeing

Sprites spiteful away from me

I thee banish, I thee vanquish

They without bodies cannot vanish

But for a moment it is quiet, reducing my panic

About me swiping zealfully as at a fly about meat

I force myself from the chair, where apathy too long confines me

If I died here, now, who would find my rotting corpse

Men in shiny orpiment jumpsuits with cordons

At least that would be release from boredom

I must myself tease with great victories

I say them though far close to reach

Which undoes doubt

My hope like a peach rotting, rolled from the whole

From golden to rotted in two days

I am gloved reluctant but shove, shove, shove

Ignore commandments from above

Which ask only shrivening, none

Can say they are not dissuaded some days

By a doubt solely of the brain

Sun without, within the rain

I will for this one day ‘scape my plate, scraping sky above

I will feel as the peaced dove

Rising like a rusted man does

Full of noise and shuffle

Knees tired with fealty creaking uprise

Thence the mighty supercolliding are reduced to minuteness.