Alchemisland

Tucking into Toad in the Hole Toasted Hovis with butter Bitter cold creates toeless homeless Unmedicated schizos mutter Gushing rain on Dublin  Life’s a Subi Fast, no idea where I’m going Driven like it’s stolen, assuming That soon you’ll ring me wanting sewer stones.

Missed them bringing back Banshee Bones But when I stooped to gather holy stones To make a marker for the latest martyr taking the journey home Accidentally brushed a banshee’s comb  All night beneath my window she sat, a wailing crone  Like a drowning cat, her keening drone Seeming to say “Your life is not…

Shining purple and yellow Petrol in puddle lips Lass covered in sticknpoke tats neck to ass Ears skewered safety pins Her torso like a landscape dotted with petroglyphs.

Never earthed like a virgin, aversion to any dearth For how long can one feasibly abstain? A month or longer Each night my bed stained like church panes Refracting rainbow light breaking against the back of a sinner praying Through framed glass stained St Stephen broken by stones for failing to condone an ill reign My…

Eager to fill empty spaces with pointless conflations No tears when my years of work meet conflagrations Fill these quaking pages Before the hungry quail returns His voice of confirmation, gently urging, never urgent.