Alchemisland

When I’m on the prowl don’t hedge your bets

All my debtors wear tac vests to bed

Never divested from them, that is until I get them and leave them dead

Hit you easy like Harvey Lee targeting a conehead, one shot no scope

Smoking a bone hoping to hone this hopelessness into a poem

Something to make me boneheaded, stoned still throne headed

No losing sight of the goal

All these losers on Reddit, bots half, kids the rest

Beating their chests about absolutely nothing

When they could be out there making something

If I see you tonight I’m breaking something

I’m looking for trouble because I’m vain

And she insulted me so I’m gonna make someone feel something

I’m gonna be this place’s Sulla

First to ride on Rome using a legion of its own.

Missing home all told

In a half-formed soon-born’s repose, forehead to toes

I reached for the phone but halfway froze

Retracted like the cat at the end of a protracted

Curiousness, save the phoning for ET though.

I was born in the wrong age

Should have arrived back in the age of cuirasses

And Kings who, as well as being great leaders, were fey grail seekers.

A pale cheek too easily teased cerise, too easily pleased

Reticence in that abandoned glee you feign.

This year I’m all about: mé féin.

That’s a major update, big change of operations,

Mandate with which the many open-handed takers must become au fait.