Alchemisland

You are the only one who compels me to get out of me

The gouty skin and me as flimsy mind

Separate like parts of a doomed flight

But for the chewtime of one meal

Your chewtoy me

Left on the cold floor when due times are deux chimed

You can only be a new boy for a while, the fault’s in the design

My mind ahead my mouth like a sign-seeking point scout before a moving phalanx

At my mind’s ramshackle leeside, knocking three times to be let inside

Rime-silvered climes and ahead but a short climb

A dying tree bared leafless for brumal seasons, like a pale ankh

The tease of its recency, like a former fire whose heat one feels.