Alchemisland

Thunder no less than lightning which like Poseidon’s fork trines

Imagine the mind which conjured lightning

Painted upon burgeoning night light streaking

I must tombs break to engage my soubrette

All mind hive of swirling spicules

Spiked notules, modalities inescapably hostile

Rabelais with Scrabble tiles

Few words the dictionary didn’t reserve, none to the wise.