Alchemisland

Sacrifice twelve slaves so the bullets they saved for me can’t slay me

Can’t be unmade but remade more often than bays by seaplay

Seething bullets seeking, moments before come as a sequence

It’s like a real time section in a game cutscene but done slow, bullets show

Themselves sluggish, rubbery, in the sludge of stuttering time, I hold

My hand like a warden warding, ward rewarded with lordly powers

I stop them midpath, slap the wind and they fall, rendered ash

Turning back balls blasted from cannons on fortress walls

Soon, this kingdom will fall and I shall reign appallingly

Apple and its core whole, I invite misrule and disorder where I go

All in every hand until I’ve lost a mortgage, that’s Christmas sorted

Soup and turkey sambos in the Gorey poor house that morning.