Alchemisland

Writing done sloppy it’s a style a sleight of hand

That no man copies, peeping deceiver at Godiva’s triumphal bypass

Demanding my answers, remanding them to his own page

Commanding them as his own, swearing them in his name

Trying to raise the third mind, me and Brion Gysin

We were taking a lot of heroin at the time

I’m going toward my goals as slow as Mourning Beloveth’s tempo

Covenant covered up, got all I covet it cost what

Even my ghost is rotting, ghost ship missing since Avignon Popes sighted

Off the Irish west coast, its weedridden timbers glistened moist

Planks pliant, giving, every inch rank with some foul exotic fatigue

Unknown in these leagues, they could but plead the disease would not flee

Those confines while they burnt the boat as it bobbed on the sea

That night the first inklings of illness were witnessed as time fixed three

Delighted witches and warlocks engaged in wizardry, wakingdreaming

From me away get thee, in another’s garden reconvene

Essential time has lessened to less than seconds

You must be no less than fifty feet from me 

Take away the children, this ailment is a wickedness.