Alchemisland

In the self-charcoal’d dark of feeling owed Counting out stolen oats, broken oaths The throats I would throttle to breaking if only they closer came In this close space, with clothes frayed Nails broken with ceaseless scraping, ruined chassis Unchained stasis, sin-stained As if this evil carapace would be escaped Taken away and burnt like…

Raving my cave black Rocking forth then back writing unreadable tracts in Yola and Forth and Bargy Morning light sees mine walls daubed night-hided Like the feathered frame of a fatal-noted raven there alighted, living somehow inside the design Losing my cool, again the promise of the jewel Whose mere proximity will sear away the…

I’m with the Chatelaine, name of Madeleine Whom bees, butterflies and sweet-heeding birdlings circuit like satellites do the Earth In a chateau in every aspect at surfeit, well judged and better kempt surfaces Fine Romanian wines, ancient busts, gilt variations of ancient lusts Musty old books, on hooks the masks that shield against bastard mustard…

Wild like the Irish in Brazil Armed because I’m a part-time pirate Pilate wants me caught at all costs Yung Ned of the Hill, won’t be outfoxed or caught short on these shores She who bore me and She the many who bore the plenty before them, dead someday But before then let the hearts…

Reading about how Proust used To deduce lucidity from his formative memories By inducing a wakeful, malleable form of sleep What comes from a seed A sequence commenced by the diminutive immensity of a madeleine being eaten Peeling back years, rewinding seasons Leaves replenished trees, who agreed to forget their yearly treason Dearly seeking reasons.