Alchemisland

Disposal’s a crow job 

Betrothal, that good a blow job.

Enticement pie warm and vulpine sly, in die-for ermine.

My life a reckless pilot’s straight-line-less final flight,

Suicide diving, spiralling into the tides

Like Icarus, rightful suit due

Ancient makers of that famous, fateful glue.

Guided yet

Can’t decide, two directions

Neither right.

Can’t decide, Doric or Ionic

For the Lodge pillars.

Stone griffins shall adopt plinths 

If so commands their phantom prince.

Missives stone writ raised aloft

His sleeve fell back to no one’s shock,

Self grazed wrists red ruined rotting,

His face emaciated, nodding off

As he prayed, between ecstastic 

And depraved, piously deprived.

Holy wasting erotic mortification

Mania’s unfortifying later stages

Orion aligned Messiah lite, Christ-like Brian’s life.