Alchemisland

I’m unfit for human society

Often, newly-sober folks turn to over-corrective piety

But not me, brandishing my cheeky Cheshire Cat smile

Once again delighted to be my own life’s pilot

I washed my hands of my own old life, Pilate

I threw my self-blooded pilum

I tossed a match to a body pile outside

Every face within was mine.