In retrospect it seemed, this dream, a thing of stage.
Around a seer’s arm snakes twist. Shameless trysting;
A eunuch is in up to his wrist! Fifty chained slaves wailing.
Been out searching for big white like a famous whaler
Left a could-clone batch on the railings behind Clone bank
Leaving Gucci patches on barb wire stanchions
Lawyer’s Tucci-like, toot sweet goodbye to the sanctions
Big tranq dose easily tanked by this dank ganj vamp
Opened a fresh bag and the place stank.
Two drags had them doubled over knock-kneed, coughing like hags
Coffin-due these slags but not me. Jewels in the bank.
Offaly safehouse, until June at least. Life’s a permanent stag.
Hiding in greenery with green until I’m clearly in the clear.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment