Alchemisland

I remember when my mother used to hold me

When the world revolved around me, Ptolemy

Even close to breast I was lonely, disposition stoney

Now I’m older I’m even stonedered, Ireland’s highest high king

Out hiking feeling like a violent virulent viking, Silkenbeard’s minting

Phone screen down in case it’s a side ting

Google docs like Shakespeare’s pockets

Full of dockets half-finished scripts, doggerel verse, cuckold odes

Halfway up or down a mountain

I will not amount to nothing, king tin-crowned

Mushrooms hitting like four vicodin

Going ham for a thin crowd.