Alchemisland

Red hot undercovers standing next to us

Connections with the blessed dead

Connections on chalkboards: the drugs, the docks, my digs, that bread

Tomorrow is the empty promise of better days ahead

Junkie on the couch shaking like he’s tased, half-dead

After taking only a single taste

Bong hits like hitting a gas grenade, tears invade

My face, dropping downward like bullets in Space Invaders

Down a hated chin in a nameless inn

Downing well-named gin, cucumber and spices floating in

I’m not in Downing Street but lately feels like I’ve been voted in

Vocalling my proposals in words you wouldn’t call parochial

Baronial in my Vietnam red robes, holding down the throne

First to the mouth like an oboe, then it’s outnose if downthroat

Whole place is a clownshow

Smokeshow got two down her chowing down

Make up smeared like a clown’s

Nose red from spending her allowance on white powder

Open dressing gown fluttering like a Kimono coloured butterfly

Above flooded Dublin muttering about how hard it’s gotten to get shit in

Coke fiends floating down the Liffey like men made flotsam after Actium

Looking maximum, doing circuits like a chariot at the Circus Maximus

Thought I was at the circus how many exotic birds, a surplus

Sir and his plus one, under a mirror’s thumb, gumming

Like Lubbock at Barrymore’s bash, tell a badge and throat meets axe

Like Harry met Sally, sallying forth lads in ballies enough to man galleys

Soldiers all, each recalls ten battles fought, what a poor man sought

Thought I might end up better off, notions sort

Motion downward if it’s a sword, sawn-off in the Accord

That’s another pawn off the board, colour lurid sunburst

Like a Slash Gibson, bagging up stashes in kitchens

White lines carded out on Formica, all for Mike, ahhh

Like a boomer sitting, sitting pretty on handy millies

Handguns as many millimetres are needed to master military missives

Never miss, objectives achieved through cleverness part malevolence

Slurs shouted in sitting rooms from Down to Newbridge

Mood light said fuck you

Someone’s hacked the roombas, I’m trapped by rumours of wars unproven

More than thrice proven, moving towards thrice-blessed with each new moon

Each new room is more dismal and weeping gloom, each aeon an open tomb, roomy

Enough for two, me and you a grave with a view, five star airbnb review

Wavespittle moonhue

Sky’s armaments prise apart the firmament’s armour.