Alchemisland

When my poems drop

Crowd looks like Dynasty Warriors

So many assets, getting texture pop-ins

Console going slow, like it walked behind a coffin

Coughing from all day bonging, still throttle any boffin

Man better know his Aristotle, making words Boggle

Instinct, your efforts a troglodyte’s inkling

Lady of Shalott how she floats on the loch

Like rotten jetsam flotsam, nearby Crowley Enochian

Abidance, violence on local cattle, apporting shadows

In the loch basin, snakes of amazing length

Slaking angels with lamb ichor, angel delight

Mary Queen of Scots in cell rotting

Didn’t see any Scots rushing to take her away

When it came down to a vote, majority stay

Antonio and Bassanio at the bay, dismayed

Conveyance delay, lack of arrival

One cannot thrive, city of rivals

Soon will be on trial, circled by ravens

Take a loan won’t pay it back though

More beef than Aunty’s casserole

More entry than nympho’s asshole

Hathor’s lawyers on payroll, telling Shylock it’s better to settle

Testing his mettle, he’s charge pressing

Business that’s downright unpleasant I learn to make it tenable

If not downright enjoyable, unbendable but I’ll meander, water temple

Take me under, away from these clowns

I’m amazing, Like Mr Blunden

I’m a war bard, Edmund Blunden

I’m Francis Ledwidge, winged and given to legend

Came from the royal center, not far from Navan

Died closer to Verdun than Kells

I’m the curse taking effect, killing Lord Carnarvon

You will regret the day you disturbed my cavern

Take as owed not one jot of Christian blood

In the tavern drinking drugging, smoking area shrubs

Shoving even lightly, quick as lightning push your shit in.