Alchemisland

Couldn’t get enough of me when there was money

Can’t get whiff of you now that I’m in trouble

Weren’t there for the struggle, won’t care about the mud you’re in

Up your neck, won’t help with debts don’t hold your breath

If they don’t know my dad’s name is Denis then they’re not denizens

Of my realm proper, they’re practically interlopers, such thoughts leave me hopeless

Dope needing always feeding, so much married to routine must be needlemoving 

On the spectrum no ZX, pretending to Z to avoid S E X despite being obsessed

What a mess a human mind a miserable little secret pile this midden mind of mine

Mine eye descries what it likes, and all else is espied hostile

Anywhere past my hallway considered behind enemy lines

Espousing bible lines I live in peace, seeking to pacify, but fortify my battle lines

I won’t draw my sword and call to fight, but I’ll smite righteously if my hands are tied

You get a slim bonus, I get all I want pro bono, two blowjobs, lunch with Bono

To learn about African problems and tax dodging, and something new called a Pronus

Formless proteus I am the protozoan forms striving towards the light, toward the coast

Growing hands overnight, rudimentary lungsacks struggling to life on the land, a fin like a hand

Makes an impression in the sand we marvel at millions of years after, I wanna last that long

I wanna be exposed to gamma radiation I’m so high in my elevation

Past the belts, Orion and Kuiper, pants fell down to ankles in front of rivals

The tribal divisions seem laughable once you pass the exosphere, outta here, exit clean

Going clear and laughing like a hyena, more gear movement than a stick shift on tour

Hatch a plan to rob a bank then getaway, back to Hatton Garden, in a hatchback

Hash from Morocco, black as Venom, I set my intention before indenting on vellum

Twisting my melon, manipulating my minion, speech came out like Teresa Mannion

Off the cuff like I cut off your gold cufflinks upon threat of thumping

Dunking no donuts, your head into the water bowl, brine thrown up

Names thrown up but not the one my ears need, take a fingernail or three

Feeling like it’s a set up, something wrong since the moment I got up

I fill my cup once, wipe away the suds, thundergun a Dutch

For courage, rummage through the cupboards for an offering 

Proffer what I got before Set’s altar, exalting his toe tips, dipping my head

Dipping my pen to jot down all he said, he said the mighty will soon be dead

Off with their heads the card queen said, her fierce pasteboards wielding weapons

Said make no plan, don’t alter anything, make your way there no panic

You will see the sign and act quick, that slick whipping out my gat no one stands a chance

Against the once and future reigning champ, with the big iron on his hip, fag in his lips

What he grips he corrupts, he grasps his stirrups and lifts up, leg over and it’s done

Riding outside Godgiven hours eliding daylight, hat gun companion, sleeping come sun

Wondrous sun come to live honestly in so doing blundered, Jove’s thunder

Upon hearing what befell his only begotten son, undone.