Alchemisland

Second day of the invasion

City blazing, plastic wrapped bodies clogging beachheads

Hanged bodies, seditious teachers dangling all along O’Connell Street

Used be called Sackville until we slapped the Brits, bit guerilla

Revisiting old haunts, Brideshead, black rider turning heads

Scowls from men I zedded, I’ll be back Arniebot I said it

Playing music without airpods, tell a man shut up in response

Head spinning like the selection ring on an old ipod

Full of conflict-causing minerals, everyone inconsiderate

So I incinerate, families devastated at taken sons.