Alchemisland

Scant rays my kin shadows erase

Debased myself, the sun replaced by an image of Her fender-raked face

The quiet lake beside which she sits, gone as quick the mud’s imprinted

Bootprints, trying to finger who did it, need to know two things:

Who the muse and who she chose to sing

You could ascertain the mood from the gloom alone

In my room alone, trying to put a face to the moaning

Doleful music, trapped in the least amusing moment

Rabbit caught in a trap, Hunter laughing

Least fruitful of a hundred avenues, handed me the ashes and warned me to be glad

For the sake of a jewel I colluded

I waited for stormforks and galeforces to occlude the moon

Hiding my preclusions like a sarcophagus lid hides the corpse inside the tomb

At the sixth of seventh forks, had to mix the sedatives with the boosts

Break and remake, the thing as its root, alchemical

Mood chemically induced, removing stems and chutes, leaf left initially wet

Cures like meat, hanging in bushels like garlic a vampire despises to meet

Furtive moonbeams pool, hurtful crooning, a woundpiece to amuse

Pleasing news my mutant feuding precludes joyful communion

I can but lash out, standing in the ashes of the last bridge out

Shouting God down.