Alchemisland

Body fresh as a Brennan’s loaf 

Burnt off my prints ages ago 

And I wore a pair of driving gloves 

I’ve killed them in droves 

Shoved them into holes 

Some full fleshed, others ash 

But mostly bones 

Only I know where they’re stowed 

Ask me nicely I’ll let you know 

Take a left off any road 

Hit a wall then keep going 

A sense of unease growing 

Like the mould old bones coating 

Me to worried coppers gloating 

I won’t give up the goat 

Buried, like Saxon groats 

Opened up their throats 

Drank the wine that came out, loads

I’ve only two modes 

Stand up guy or psycho host 

Poisoned dinners, turned men to ghosts 

Hidden altar, worshipped goat 

Warmest coat for a trip to the frigid coast 

Bodies in the fridge 

Hacked up in the kitchen 

Cut up into bits 

Arms fed into a mincer 

Crabs running off with bits off you in their pincers

How innocent I acted, would have impressed Harold Pinter 

More red than Titian’s printer 

He loved a ginger bint, that painter

You said it but you won’t see her later 

Not even if you squint 

Ahead but I won’t quit 

Keep killing and that’s it 

Quids in, ditch you in the ditch 

Kill then sprint until I get a stitch 

Gaping wound a stitch won’t fix 

In time saves nine 

You’re next in line 

Leave now 

Take my advice and save your life 

Sun up some down, let none survive 

Tight knit, knitting needle pierce your eye

Carve you up like three are having pie 

Bisect you while you’re still alive 

Scarlet gloves, rummaging inside 

Playing gin rummy, considering suicide 

They want to catch me, they really try 

Knowledgeable salmon, to their flies I’m wise 

Coyote I’ve got all the wiles 

Dab hand been at this a while 

No particular style 

Something different every time

Keep them guessing 

They won’t get me, there’ll be no trial 

No heavenly reward, camel needle eye

Lethal, evil guy 

Wiping off my bloodied knife 

Lycanthrope, I hunt by night 

Lean in for a hug 

Stabbed her good 

Rolled her up in a rug 

Dug a hole in the muck 

Going forward like a rook 

Ain’t no fool, no Took

Smiling politely, nobody suspects I’m a crook 

With a viking bloodlust 

When I can’t kill I sulk 

My sulcus is sullen 

My appetites are hulking 

Stockpiling meat like I’m bulking 

Carved up her cunt 

Her ruined thighs 

Brocaded with slices

Slashing and I don’t mean prices 

Batteries out on all devices

Half past five

Taking the corpse for a drive 

Weekend at Bernie’s style

Skin keep my furry Burmese busy a while.