Alchemisland

Gelid malevolent winter, winds swept from hell’s foetid flagstones

Harrying hamlets, thatches tore and the standing tall flattened

All flags flapped madly like a chancer’s gums

I did my sums glumly

Found funds were lower than a beltless man’s trousers

Awake at wolf and witching hours

Pleas to the powers that be, make me keen

Fiendly like thee, I am gleed at how suddenly the change is made, clean

Thousands paid to me today, can’t rage at that, whole new page

Whole new book, how do I live forever like the coprophage

I can’t act my age, either overmature or spoiled babe

I complain having to take the train, everyone in transit smells what strain

I’m conveying straight from garden to grinder, I don’t need a minder

Or a keeper, I’m the finder always keeping, I’m the fighter always beefing

I’m the looker always seeking I’m the wakeful never sleeping

I count the dots on my ceiling, my face a fresco peeling

Tesco is the place where I buy kleenex, cling wrap, stuff for cleaning

The green of the pots and pans, fumigate it let the smoke free

Laughing like I’m watching an Ealing comedy, I have tins of quality street

Full of greenleaf property, shotgun shells and money in lockboxes

Amount shocking considering how many packages I dropped

Into the ocean; that’s the cost if you want to keep in motion

I try to keep emotion out of it

But roused by powder I start to get loud, shouting

Hate crowds and can’t be alone, no room where I’m not alone

I must hail from elsewhere, either that or this world is Hell

I suspend belief, delve deeper eagerly, slip in easily

In Hell I have demon keepers with clinking keyrings

Ceiling made of writhing sinners, ghosts of writers

Penning artless Limericks, a whole molten wing for the Irish

For turning our backs on all that papal action

A code for the collared, a childruining rebus

We are turned to ash in the spreadbatwing shadow of Mount Erebus.