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TO LET: LOTSA KET
What I’ve got they’ve got one eighth House where they’re living like one miserable sliver of my kitchen Considerable mink slippers, gold dust sprinkled onto my kippers: different. Way I’m living makes unpaids livid Like I’m about to say “Let them eat cake.” Debateable whether the speech delivered was OKt They didn’t seem too grateful…
alchemisland
420, 666, alchemisland, alchemy, art, bard, bars, chaos, creative writing, drug taking, drugs, dublin, imagination, intoxication, ireland, irish writers, ketamine, mayhem, neuralchemy, OC, occult, poem, poet, poet’s corner, poetblr, poetry, poetry community, poetryblr, rhymer, rhyming, rites, rituals, special k, spilled ink, spilled poetry, words words words, writeblr, writer, writing -
Still wet-from-flushing poems by a necrophiliac rat licker, found floating where our effluent enters the sea.
When I write the routine’s sacred, must be naked save For my chimp mask Convinced that if I stick to that I’ll make it some day, alas So far it hasn’t happened The drugs enter me like the tip of a lance into the soft armpit flesh of a knight errant Only after being scourged…
alchemisland
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The end of a friendship
Nothing lasts. Oh, we’ve had our blasts like old cannons Rusted now, recycled into bravery medals Nothing is fixed, only stone sticks and even that is licked by wind to wind Unglued the affixed things plunge into occluding gloom Here in the quiet room which should be loud, we planned it loud But you were…
alchemisland
666, alchemisland, alchemy, art, bard, bars, betrayal, creative writing, dublin, feelings, friendship, fury, hatred, imagination, ireland, neuralchemy, OC, poem, poet, poet’s corner, poetblr, poetics, poetry, poetry community, poetryblr, rage, rhymer, rhyming, rites, rituals, spilled ink, spilled poetry, words words words, writeblr, writer, writing -
BALL ALL DAY
Ball non stop like a marble in a perpetual motion machine Promotion machine, lean by the ocean, new sheen Leaning into it, drug dependent Pull the rug out on a dependent Thick chains pendent from my neck Dent with my pen, slit neck Slick roads when it’s cold Don’t drive too quick might end up…
alchemisland
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Ten-footed fake saint who masquerades as a saviour to deranged people
Chain-lifted out of bubbling vats like a murdered man’s car from acid Now that I am massive, this is how my masses of servants remove me from my bath Planned in advance so we were all placid about it We discussed it at the Ranch with Manson Then again in the van parked outside the…
alchemisland
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Alchemisland 