Alchemisland

A doorman couldn’t keep me outside

She had a dormer you could sit inside

Warm my hands in her kitten, mitten style

Sitting, fat bitten a while. A vista fit for suicide

She’s blue, I’m glued, two down from crocodile.

Illegal dealings in the rearview, recent.

The rest inferior, she’s the reason

I dress the interior in appropriate period

I address her tears with the grace that’s needed

I will show her through fur coats and opals

I will show her in the jutting bones coasting my throat

That sadness is badly worn by one born for a throne.

Queenly edicts, know your role.

Sweeping up an overpreened phoenix, running up and down my road.

Slow routes, toeing her old roots, she’s the scenic route

She’s really proof, Athena aloof, owl roofed

Her hoofed lower half statue suitable. Irrefutable.

I would glue to her cuticle until the moon of my funeral.