Alchemisland

Here since four, here until four

Rewinding old laughter, seeking out heretofore hidden slyness

My simping eye, once-famed descrier, led away from finding.

Nothing before matters, it is what comes after

A whole raft of things you gave as gifts, for which I’ve zero use

I suppose they’ll be good as fuel

Smiling back from a porphyry bath Nero used, full of honey

Gums and tongue both lacerated bloody, struggle around the answer

How one’s body feels physically the repugnance of the task

It is put to as a tool, my tool

Shame’s sour sting, the pretence of having rules and codes

All out the window once my fuse goes

Pass that spliff back quick, need a few goes

Hardly wit quickens but it’s painful remembering this

Gashes and blisters, another three hits

Witnessing the destruction of the chalice

Drinking cum from a thrice-shattered glass

Just to have it.