Alchemisland

Demons and upheavals, rushing up from a breach

A jar of teeth buried on a Dorset beach

A mummified cat dustily tugged from the snug

Of some medieval trade hub

Blood and pain exchanged for something like fame

That’s the trade up you can make

From the rusty trailer where I labour

In lusty disgrace, I lurch to the church of sunburst saints

Tied in bronze chains beneath the robes of a magus

Finding the darkest lurch of a most ancient chamber

Feeling my way along; if you know the trick something changes

A room unlocks, alas I am too far gone for fetch quests

Gone to the dogs, perhaps you could be its next guest;

Rash ephebe, of whom I am fond exceedingly, find a use for these keys

A brick in the facade comes away

Revealing a fiend’s face

An altar place gift-graced daily

Church full of pervs in urns

Spider-ridden icons, saintly panes painted sightly, unlikely eternities.