Alchemisland

Rage boiling up like some penne 

Nothing compares, that’s Sinéad

Toss the grenade, shouting sin é

Shimmying down a pole 

Nifty grifter escape up the Liffey 

Wouldst thou like to live deliciously

I could be easily tempted, gee

You versus me, dodgy for the commission, risky bout

From the first jab had you swaying, ref diving in to save you

Blood flowing down your face as stains the chopping block

Joanna Jędrzejczyk versus Jess Penne, fucked up your face

Failed to brace I break teeth, make you need braces

Mr T how high my T levels, testing gauge read legend

Wrote plus sign beside my A, red letters

Smell a set up run faster than a red setter into the sunset

Change a single word, even one letter, you’ll find a dead editor

Eye with a pen jammed in, told me to use less enjambment but

Got his throat cut halfway through the sentence, death sentence

Vows I’m held to like lenten

You’re in the linden travel tavern watching Hentai

I’m in cider, thought it was Linden’s Village, my entirety

Stuffed inside an Irish gee, three fingers trinity ring on each

Sauronesque in the black keep, dark lord when I speak

Reached a peak and took an eagle to the next, seeker

Arms weak so took a needle to the leg, opiate litre

Fighting in the streets while I sleep, hopeless leader

My partner done up like Xena, page of Heavy Metal magazine

Everything coming up trumps since I had the thirty tree

That’s another pot for me, dealer’s seething

Whispering into his collar, speaking to the manager

I’m making demands, this the worst place on the planet

They show me the way out, I show them two birds

They say how charming, I spit them two words

Ornithologist how I’m too into birds

Up early to get the worms

My binoculars trace your curves

Wordless on the curb, staring up

Your finger curling urges

I crawl up past the verge

Scale the verdant trellis urgently

Up to the casement lip

Press my face against it, look in

Snout pushed back, devil sick of sin

She’s crying, must have had some gin

I roll in

Using riches to drip out like iron age, pagan fixtures

Pictures of satan dangling on my earlobe

Drink twelve beers then I elope

Don’t tell anyone that I’m going

Out into the gloam

At the last supper eating loads

But thanks sticks in the throat

Top of castle moon like a medallion

I’m at the bottom of the moat, mud like a casserole

How it felt when the flood receded

Westgoing seeking east.