Alchemisland

Praying our lady of Guadalupe 

Get home alive from Guadalcanal

Writing like Thoth 

Wrist like a quetzalcoatl

Chasing butterflies in Macalania Woods, reborn a Guado

This isn’t even my final form, divers transformer, Seymour Guado

Climb to my eyrie’s lightning-charged spire, see more guano

You can clean my windows, look in I’ll kick you off though

Up again wrong side of the bed

Born five years after eighty seven

Sometime between May and December

Kept separate on account of my sceptre

Living on Misery Hill with the Lepers

I’m a Bacchus at home, garbed in a leopard

My cars parked in Leopardstown presently

I’m bad, really Al Bhed

Run block, running’s deadly like the Running Man

Balance once vast like the land’s span, invest the last

On a chocolate firetruck, tartan paint and a bucket of steam

I’m Tarzan lately, on the vines screaming creaming hunters

They’re craven anyway, swapping my maven for buxom maiden

Alone often, more solo than Iron Maiden

Conveying anger and frustration in rhyming layers

Smoking this one faster than the last one

Task me motherfucker, ask the last one

Looking upward observing sunspots

Thoughts black as the rotten spuds

Our cannibal ancestors pulled up

Who ate shrubs, then ate sons

Knocking on the door of a mocker

Three times let fall the knocker

Like Christmas Eve ag sneachta

Calm as Spock

Like ingot sun on glock

Open up the lock

Popped, karma’s blotted