Alchemisland

Thirsty, coke throw us one over

Trying to roll you over

Ramming you into the hard shoulder

Car like a rugby player taking off registration plates

Registering my name at the concierge belonging to Norman Bates

Lucky I wasn’t in that shower

Pull back the curtain, whatever hour

See me masturbating into a rolled towel, Roald Dahl

They try to change me, call me hateful antiquated my ways, iron age

Rolled that, smoked that, smoking gat a rifle manufactured by Dahl

Old leather couldn’t work me with an awl, come at me, you and all

Push off the wall and high kick the first dickhead into the urinal

Land a right into a sweep, flip that creep like a crepe in Paris

Who is he think the dizzy, this tissy turned to a feisty fistic business

Physical exertion, carry this urchin to the physiker or rude worker

He’ll think for certain before blurting out another rude word

Last thing I heard he had a bag into which he passed turds

Past tense thinking back then, what would I have put as my password

I’m in the scrap yard making a heart of salvage, it pumps my sewage

Sylvan scenes I remember having seen must dreams themselves concede

Finding no equal without that all-seeming sphere, fixed of gear, trees

More green than Gawain’s own grail, lost world seeming, elysium teeming

Seized by Pestilence’s needy squeeze, dying leaves Dutch Elm disease

You are in thrall, enthralled, sensing I am more involved, big dog

Clifford, need tenscore clipboards stuck together to draw my hog

Imploring other lords take up their swords, make a king no more

Sleep no more with my head full of Scorpions, sleeping in the car until divorce completes

At which point it’s either backseat or backstreets, eating bad so mad streaks on briefs

Can’t explain the horror of it all, how did it happen, it never pours or rains

Thane of Cawdor take a cab, open the cardoor while we’re changing lanes

In the rearview mirror glance exchange, rolling out that place, knees scraped

Only fare I’ll tolerate Scarborough, and brother your car ain’t

Tainted things taking place behind tinted windows

Vacant eyes taken away, a place behind the wilting weeping willow

Pillowcase blindfold, killer pace that’s Nike-souled.