Alchemisland

My fine jewel fetched at high price prized she at a costume’s worth Wishing she’d said nay in the first place, saved us all this hurt In my worst best dreams in a stressed sea like a bream Or a Tetley’s teabag in a too stirred brew Day like today most’re too afraid To show face,…

Blushing she dumps me into the forty foot Size four foot, bulk deleted recordings of us fucking Breath stinks of White Russians Shoving a loose hand back into the luggage Well bludgeoned and bluer resulting Split mush corpse inside a coarse Persian plush pushed Upon landing slaps man-crushing water Thwunklike sploosh.

In retrospect, nothing is truer with respect to life Than the phrase “Enough’s enough” when someone means it I suppose I should have taken her meaning From the way she said Mike From the way the nine inch knife She was barely hiding by her backside Was gleaming in the candlelight that night Black eye,…

Nothing left long enough to flower Born restless, lifeworn when wrest from the womb which bore me Then dead before an hour, cheap to embalm me The last-long Druid power which cowed even the unflinching legion Remnants of lost cults now lost leagues below the sulk The stone, the truth, the way is the fluid,…

Finding a dying God wine drunk in a foetid gutter, honking of piss His and others’ Hiss sounds, escaping steam, holy mutters, cats evading spaying captors Dying by a thousand cuts submerged in cult-cut bull blood Even the milk-swollen flower mother, only love, chose to smother us.