Alchemisland

Skin sizzling like a burning witch

Nox has me Zombie, Cranberries off these canisters

Not a lotta space I’m thin as a rake bound for Sideshow Bob’s face

But I cram it into me anyway, Instamash and Cram

Take more than EMP scramble and nuke blasts to scram me

Scran what’d turn another’s stomach: asshole meat, whole bugs

No hesitation, survival primal and ancient, tuck in

If it’s esculent then I ate it

Proceeded with the assured swagger of a believer in fate

Implacable until it’s right in your face

Stepped to you with the right bits, signed paper.