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Tinfoil Apocalypse
Laced as lemonade in a Mason’s cup Noise of crinkling Shrill machine voice harsh static Animate tinfoil apocalypse
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Times
Nuke’s top 5 nights Frightening sights as delight grim idols idling in ice cases In deep crevasses left by the recession of Hyperborean ages Awaiting lightless days Hounds bay at day’s drowning Alluring, abusive night climbs like a spider sky to horizon spine On my desk, before the window, a single candle burns Pervading darkness…
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How Old Is Your Land?
How old is the land It is a haunted planet Who planted it, that which grew Who planned it, who knew before knowing Who went before going was
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Land Falling from Arch Avatar’s Hand
It fell from his tender hand Stood from primordial soup Now the ancient land stoops with age Stoops on which wide-hatted sages sat.
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Bombs in Billets
Mr Burke from Battersea has an early start Up with larks, ensuring binmen do their jobs If you spy him circuiting the park he is warden of, and try stalking past him He will shout as if you had not seen him and were keen to stop and talk He bellows about battle Overseas retreats…
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Alchemisland 