Alchemisland

Canis minor, selling Cain to minors

Pocket money, cough up the fivers from pops and mummy

Triple price if the collars popped and they look monied

Dog days, getting my hands muddy

Readying runways for a second phase. Orders to do it.

Fogged shades disguise a pair of eyes redder than a Pharaoh’s gruaig.

Sucked in the bong’s drifting gift

Considered the journey it took before I hoofed it up;

Sailed around the side of Charybdis and Scylla, still arrived.

Kept driving without ever seeing an Ithaca sign.