Alchemisland

Houseflipping

House I’m living equipped with a mouse kitchen

Not a glass clean, stained with mouths, cryptids in the sink

Crypt stink lingers from dirty plates with mouldy dinners

Kitchen island where I mounted thots, weighed amounts, lined powder out

Never knew a drought, the flood keeps coming if you’re keeping count

Accountant found new ways to clean it, through a fountain it comes out viable

Economically, I’m no longer liable, in silence I read the bible, trifle with home economics

I’m not making trifle, something white get an eyeful, three rifles in case it gets dicy

I don’t mean Reilly who has taken to the sup, I lift a pup by his scruff and nuzzle him

Even if I’m rough, ready and eager to meet death head on, I have a puzzling

Affection for animals, their lack of affectation, they are not infected by impatience

I leave this bun in the oven to immolate it, sage smoke make the place feel saintly

The marching is louder with marching powder, my fingers tattooed from black powder

White powder and clam chowder, a huge allowance for a princess who couldn’t be prouder

She prowls like a panther, huntress, calls me daddy and pulls no punches, calls me cunt

I cause her cunt to not need lunch this side of shrovetide, lump sums thumbs up bums

Dicks sucked for the fallen crumbs, single mums, ones with cunts tight as funds

When the stock market plummets, in her belly I rummage like a pig after truffles

Plunder she’s under the table making London bridge unstable, blown away

By what she’s able to do with her eating tubes, massive boobs, tubes tied

So ride away no baby time, take your time this old steed’s tired, entire seed

Please defile, suck seed to succeed a pithy number from A Crowley

On his knees, Neuberg pleasing himself, aethyrs being revealed

She’s calling me, I don’t mean Enochian

She’s recalling me, having her back doors knocked in

Like the lock kept out the cops and the crop was within

When I’m in her doing something a bit sinful she makes a din

Like a sinkful falling and crashing, she lashes out, scratching my back

Like a DJ mixing up the track scratches the wax, Jimmy Penguin his bag

Go on bandcamp and listen to his tracks at volume max, melt you fast

Asks me go faster, I’m fast as Han when Greedo grabs the blaster

I cannot go faster without increasing my chances of collapsing

Acting like I’m not on the verge of unconsciousness

Orgasm number twelve today she manages to conjure it.