Alchemisland

Eight years since I stopped drinking

Eight days since I stopped blinking

No capping, people say I resemble Booth who shot Lincoln

187 you, truth

87 + 1 in the twitter handle, slap that Hitler Youth

Give ‘em the boot, give ‘em the tomb

Sinless stonecaster in fast Judgement, Terminator II

Tom’s a CIA patsy, go back to Blink 182

All the small things turn out to be aliens

Calling them UAPs as if we’re not on the cusp of World War 3

Climax: back a ladder, spine orgasm’ll climb that like expert yoga

Rat in the ranks, in the maze, back cop a blade bade by known toga

Paid in raw ingots, Jesus death cert age minus three, hanging tree

Setting cornfields ablaze, find you runaway slaves

187 you, truth