Alchemisland

Panda find food, house of bamboo getting tattooed

Drake-topped tree roots forming a rude rood

Astute when I’m not stewed, which is never, dude

I’m in the power shower still wearing a slick suit

Star I’m hitched to is about to boom, flames consuming me

Lasers shooting out from me, ladies booties out for me

Watching like a voyeur in a room with no clean air

Their mission no emissions, my strictures swizzers unto wisdoms

My crypt cryptic riddled with hidden switches and fixtures, fissures

You can fit behind if you’re sufficiently trim, no meat diet, not the Meath castle

Walls you can go inside if you glide your hands along until you feel an odd rock

Twist it like it a story we straightened, crypt full of amazing urns, chained coffin

Better bring a mask, my miasma will have you coughing a lot for long lung scarring

Way is barred if you don’t look hard, hit the target with a stone to find my bone redoubt

Nose red as a clown when you spring my trap, black as a crap summer distended tunnel

With no end, just an entrance and thousands of ginger voidsteps, gradient downward

You feel it in your knee backs, masonic caves of James Shelby Downard

If you try to convey my gold and grave goods back to the surface

My surfeit which affords me services in the hereafter, my sole purpose

Becomes the consumption of your soul, my ghost rises in Tyrian purple

Mysterious as a Phoenician the words on the unfurling scroll of my headstone

Horn pinioned anpiels in mutilated stance, in cancerous black caverns dwelling.