Alchemisland

Want to fill out your map’s blanks but curiosity killed the cat

Saw him sodden and bloated, washed up on the riverbank

Mudlarking at low tide not a lucrative exercise

Found a pliers, two tyres, six cans of cider, a bike, none of it roman

Send your consciousness elsewhere, astral roaming charges

When you beef with me, Rome-leading roads lead to an eight stone

Lad with a poshy accent and big shrón kicking your head in; Rhodes

Colossus how I see myself in the mind

Dwarf poshy how they see me on my grind

I keep an open mind, head a breached pie, in sewers finding gold

Inspect the house first, make sure it’s old

With mould and more than one ghost

A roving a roving a roving I’ll go for a bag of green wine, foliate chalice toast

I must be wearing the ring of sex, bitch obsessed ringing, asking to rim me

Showing her my Barry Keoghan energy, last of free Eireann’s banshees

I’m part of a phantom flying column

Flying the flag of Michael Collins, Tan vanquishing

Wagon laden with old Toby, I’m in the Green Dragon sinking flagons

Should have listened to the old cartographers; here be dragons

Hope you didn’t book a session with the photographers; you’ll be snapping

Dripping sap after a slapping

Called you a sap, happy slapped you unhappy

Slapped like I was slapping ham onto the bap after a bad day

So many brain cells my blows take, you can’t pass the exam

I’m rebuilding ziggurats, Gilgamesh reborn, Stillorgan’s Saddam

Raised on Kerrang and ganja

I smoked salvia from the chalice of Derrynaflan

I’m smoking the ashes of razed flags, spending millions on elastic bands

I’m lighting the flame of courage in the nation, deranged Galahad

Full of indecisive, placeless rage

No more can be stayed; making reports Roger Casement

The dead slide down stakes, I’m like Elvis dying of steaks in the jakes.