Alchemisland

I used to practice shooting bottles

I’m interested in a life lived full throttle

Anti control mental models

A cockroach babe-akin swaddled

Leaving the car park having performed a rudeness, a lewdness

Won’t tell you what I just swallowed

Hand tats, love + hate, dots denoting ACAB, and two swallows

Always been a wrong’un, made my wet nurse vomit

On the night of my birth, seers espied a spiteful comet

Some reported a red man riding it

I’ve never once been out of pocket

Inventing my way out, Wallace and Gromit

I never intended to write for a profit, let alone as a job

Now they’re calling me a prophet, Book of Job

But I’m a slob, I like a cup of Joe to start me off, see me down the road

I hate fraternizing with toffs and have a permanent cough

Toothless from junk, like I ate too much toffee, one obese wallet

Wildly in love with every trickster I meet;

My fingertip comes off; lopped off

A bit of Van Gogh in me

More concerned about making this rustbucket van go

I have two arrangements, clandestine, in San Diego

Married and killed a Vollmer

My 45 hits like the bronze bomber

From good stock but I did a runner

My flesh waning, pale and wan and all bone like I was eaten by piranha

Clean bones gone, hosing down my foetid cave

At a rave carving runes with an awl of bone

I get all my instructions down the phone

Paid my dues

Railed under the milk moon

Splattered in the nude

Looking for clues, underlining and cutting up today’s news

At the Discordian Church, of 23 I inhabit the first pew.