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Old fade
Slit I fed a lint familiar quarter The lit panel readied for order With thumb tortured ordered A cocoaless sweet treat Turning street meat to only-suites No lead-absorber spoiling my lit fit if I walk around, this is it Lit up a clown over some staring down shit in 2006 Lived off that clout for…
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Time debt
They said it might rain at five I’m not driving but I’m loathe to carry and so said drat it Light jacket only, take a crack at life while the mile’s golden While the going is good the good is already going The sky’s sickly shade and pie was if I Recall rightly a drink-diet…
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Ambitious pagans
Ancient Rome post-Domitian A sense of renewed mission The old wants prove rude: wealth, property, worldwide dominion. The bloodthirst of a fish chewer A fistula connecting his doings to Rome’s fiscal ruin. The centre cannot hold If in moonbeams tales are told, that molten O served omen The brittle middle whose part sum is Rome…
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Cold served revenge of the first pagan
In tower-raising days In a hide decorated chamber Nimrod gazed into eternal flames Proclaimed Creator its unamiable presence. Ale-imbalanced constellations reduced to juke dancing. Tutors who either fluked then lied Or paid to pass having failed their exams Wither on branches the chanceless buds.
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The Hill
Hillround fire crowned Rille-abounded moon slydoer’s croon to Mistcolour face ravenpaint flanked A preagricultural faith my family maintain.
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Alchemisland 