Alchemisland

I’m the end of the Neverending Story

Distressed in lobby and halls asking “Mommy,

What did it mean when it said all is nothing?”

Kids choking crying, what happened Falkor was too gory

Critics deplore me, they try prohibit screenings

Ban me from meetings, prevent my dreams and meaning from being seen

I’m seeking avenues through which my scenes can be seen

By keener eyes, other dreamers who won’t say obscene, extreme, unclean

Said they need to cut a bunch, smudge out some others

What they propose is unrecognisable, it is not my own

Anger rising, I turn it off like a fed-tapped phone

Feel it burning off, thank my inner sprinkler foam

When it’s my turn to talk I’m really going throwing down, it’s flowing out

It’s all coming out now like the unstuck guts of a man knocked down

Verbal equivalent of dancing around hands down

They counted my turn of phrase as a knockdown

They’re looking at me like a clown with my cock out at the priest’s cookout

Winking nudging, looking at me crooked like I’m the crook, you vultures

All shut the fuck up, or I’ll publish the movie as a book

You’d probably like that wouldn’t you

Then I wouldn’t trouble you

This potential loss of revenue can’t be recovered

I feel artistically smothered in your fiscal oven

I wouldn’t touch half of your ugly mugs wearing gloves

You know nothing about film, may as well watch Paprika with my hamster

Then ask for him to write down his opinion afterwards on a placemat back

Feel so dirty in your company I need to smudge away this ugliness

We’ll agree to disagree for now, but I reject your cuts outright

That night rest flights, I wanna risk it all, flights for Mexico I’m out

See it through for vision, make vision true to prove to you

That I can do magic if I focus, reality’s elastic my practice

Allows me snap the world’s back in half, I’m half mad

But that doesn’t excuse bad treatment, my film deserves seeing

Every sequence as I set it on celluloid, anything else annoys

I hear noises from the void telling me avoid too much paranoia

They are out to get me but I must be sharp as a rapier point

To get my point across, in the morning en route I toss a coin across

My vision and let it fall into fountain water, granting my wishes

Clarity of vision now one week off weed swishers

Lucky I don’t have stars or stripes

Strike capacity, collapse the pillars Samson

Second meeting starts ugly and only gets muckier by the minute

The ball they’re playing is hard as an old Nokia and I’m mired in the shit

I’m admired for my penmanship and daring, but these cunts don’t care

They are the type to stare when someone has moderately long hair

They are dinosaurs, who avoided the fatal solar flare

Trying to get control like I’m a player looking for two batteries stat, AA

I intone and successfully invoke a satanic tone, the room is now my zone

They realise I am not going to budge, in fact I touched up my walls

Don’t know how I got a budget, application must have been false

Give it some of that secret sauce to grease the boss

They hope my work is purely fiction, assure them it’s made up with a wink

Loudly sipping from my starbucks cup to distract them while they talk

Their minds are my practice targets

I send missiles up, archer’s arms arcing

The movie releases, does no one harm, some scenes alarming

But nothing more jarring than what’s seen in the news

My skies are Derek Jarman blue, my soul has shoes

It walks the night’s roof when I’m idle, black bible

Black Madonna idol hidden in a byre, behind a midden

I come to be known as an old reliable, delivers under budget and on time.