Alchemisland

Pillared gates await those who visit or hope to escape. Vast estate, bought paid, primarily peopled by vaches Grasses grazed by handsome herds of Jersey and Guernsey cattle. My hand shaped this land to something stately as well as shapely All my demesne arranged suchlike. Lip splutters What raises blood in others to me does…

Born fucked, Richie to the power of 3 crooked  Curtains for my hurting vertebrae Took her offroad for the day Wheels spinning, muck spray More mud on the door than on the uniform Of a bomb-tired Tommy in the First World War Two tours in Tours, you could hardly call me a tourist I could…

As snow toploads a flower, Lo, see my head gold banded like a bandit’s finger, in its finest hour, Ignobly lowered closer the soup’s rim by dint of glinting crown.

Hate the Late Late Pray the Gay Byrne away Always the same Boring, state-mandated conversation A stasis, prolonged, that our State has created It maintains their status.