Alchemisland

Part Marcel Marceau how I go stonefaced No syllable escapes my sealed grate None of their temptations invade my safe space I might be a waste of space but I’m basically unbreakable I’ll let you take what you want to take for an easy life But what I do not wish to give stays with…

For lore I’ll gladly become forever forlorn by the stormwielding Lord Tired of yielding, tired of fielding offers from cunts, Tired of feeling there’s a ceiling to what I could afford at once. My blunt packs curative for melancholy temperament. Pax, temporary. Got more tenement dwellings than a settled colony To me they’re ten a…

Bushes raw and bald, spring-keen brush of blackthorne and haw, Rushflutters of aweing birdflight; thrushes and blackcaps alighting. Delight’s zenith reposes in every leaf The heath we keep well well keeps Forest and dwellers rude healthed We logged all that went on From lop-needing treetops To bottoms soggy and mossen, frog-hot rotten logs.

Huge moon butter hued and stark as stalks that fire consumed. Dogs barked at spark-producing cubes of darkness, Runes of asking were carved on ash and marble, Families feuded at funerals. Duty damaged by managed disaster. Butch pink dawn after.

If I was as short, stupid and fat as you I’d live my life much as you do A squealing piglet, ugly bored Cursing the righteous and starlets as whores. When will you tire, as all have of you, Submit to criticisms I’ve seen in reviews Of your work you deleted on amateur sites That…