Alchemisland

In the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil, practicing spinning back kicks

Sun sporting plot armour affronting, lending a cardboard sky wonder

Solaire’s eye’s delight and pride, burg’s burgher, I am Thor’s thunder

Wielding an axe I vanquish my axis, need to switch up my praxis

Actor in my room, in the mirror practicing potential conflicts

Pugilistic mediator, I’m the Gladiator turned Psychologist

So, tell me about your Father and sexual experiences in college.

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Stirring my most-milk admix like a Picatrix recipe

Flies dying on sticky strips I stuck to the window

Like Tommys affixed in salient mud 1917

Widows fearing gravel’s depression, officer’s intercession

Cannot look out the window anymore, my poor young prince.