Chained to salt-shocked rocks in a rocks off bikini, waiting for the kraken
Back lined and scabbed from yesterday’s savage whip cracking
Dragging a penitent boulder through a cold shoulder canyon
I never asked myself could or can I, things just happen
Living hand to mouth, mouth to hand, standing out in hand outs
Breathing into my hands, I’ll grow into the garb but for now the sleeves
Like Gandalf’s, make sure the corner’s manned, else
They’ll run up and pilfer what you’re aiming to sell
They’ll take aim, don’t care about spreading cells.
Alchemisland 
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