Alchemisland

Biting his lip over a life-gilding admix, boiling over in a pot

Fulla gaps and holes, gnawed, corroded unto Winter stick-brittleness

Adding hydrogen sulfide from a slack, potbellied sack labelled sugar

Sticky, stickaroundy egg stink in the lab like Humpy Dumpty fell bad

Like Heaven’s rebel angels crashing flamewreathed and ravaged

Into the face of a planet unfit for their inhabiting

Inhibiting lands, of many unpleasant differences

Gas clings to low airless passages, the flags

Making the hum especially bad around the ankles

In the tangle of his crossed legs, like a drawing done mid-Tango

At forefoot dangling, a Nike Air Max Classic’s untucked lace dangles.