Alchemisland

When star-mottled night descends like a child robbing Shrike,

When senses tighten tyrant’s purselike

Wetting vellum, the Inspirant’s burst dyke

After an hour’s imbibing

The inviting vessel relayed forth and back like an old relation’s Bible

Until our bottled lightning reached its salival final gulp

Mimed having had enough before demanding her cup filled

A want for plain survival tends to breed in subjects invirtue

Tightly plotted the curves of those collar-hotting excursions

Which purport to sire ‘worthwhile’ diversions

Which do unvirgin the unpruned virtue of the bed-hopping besotteds.