Alchemisland

Grafter going to an afters near Grafton Street

Trashed, slapping windows of taxis stuck in traffic

Bag grafted onto my hand, big bag of cans and ecstasy tablets

I’m coming down, like Moses with the tablets

Magic against magic, magi made the staff split

Dead wood made to writhe and hiss

In the City a triumph heralds the dread Emperor’s long awaited arrival

Firstborns handed over to satisfy prophecy

Seedling still the cot-dead rival

Cars I wouldn’t be caught dead driving

Clowncar pile in

A mad pilot from Carlow doing no lower than the highest numbers

This rustbucket’s odometer shows

All black so my subtle vomit shows

Angering the driver of the taxi, lousy lout

Keeps looking over his shoulder, chiding us for being bold in his motor

I know I’m gonna hurl again, I can feel it in my molars

Twenty years in the hole for what I’m holding up my hole, how it goes

Drove like he stole it, no emotions cold with it stiff-lipped

Stiff Little we were holding suspect devices

Unmanned luggage, unclaimed package

I know they will call me a knacker but I have to have it, and failed as an actor

I would play music but I lack that skill, do easy is my battle tactic

Fall back on what I’m naturally good at

Cruising on automatic laughing at a manual

Started off like the fourth or fifth Emmanuel

Kama Sutra we went through the whole manual

But know she’s getting emotional

Now the real her is starting to show through the hoe

She says I’ll go

I say fucking go I don’t give a fuck, close the door over

Her eyes roll over, as if to say she is over it, that we are over with

But she loves gold and the amount of dough with which I’m equipped. means I can be soulless

And still get me hole

Christmas somewhere solar

Moth’s skin bronzer than the age that witnessed Homer

Middle aged, canned blonde souring beige

Still gives pool teens stiff boners

I am in the pool floating like an undecided voter

Long and complicated password, phone full of explicit photos 

Of me in motorhomes around the country

Motorboating the wives of unwise men 

Who always arrive home from the pub at the same time

New positions, Jays says I, 90 going

Heightened register “Always wanted to try”

No amount of light is too bright

All the lights on plus candles, coalfire alight

Slurping on toes, I am not even one of those

But there is nowhere I won’t go, do what I’m told.