Tag: writing
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Dorothy Eady
Like Moses, Dorothy Eady Found herself waking up amongst reeds Recalling old lives in Ancient Egypt As an esteemed member of a revered priesthood, out east Hit her head so badly her ears were bleeding Doctors doubted she would recover Despite her parents’ pleading An old soul in a new shell Didn’t care who believed…
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Mutecute
A bite, fuck portion size Contorting and devil cavorting beneath nightskies Brazen fiend with no disguise save his guileful lies Something light, nice and tasty OTO lightcakes maybe What a bake sale that was, baby Rabies, frothing mainly at the labia Breathing laboured Like a roughed up Lion Tamer Short king, David Teymur.
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Slapping a blind lion
In the lake next to me lives a plesiosaur Which I always thought sounded like the name of a Gaeilgeoir You might meet up in Donegal near Grianán of Aileach, the fort I’m going to walk the frigid shore, planning on sailing North No stopping until Hyperborea, and Aquilonian resorts Take my hide-shored boat deep…
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Spider boxes bound for the silk factory
Isis, my finest wife, in wine white dyes bowls onlookers over Her fingers swan necks, opal, diamond, ruby, and emerald banded Stolen from Zosha, red squirrel and stole on the shoulder Person of polarities, bipolar; one minute stropping, next laughing hilarity Dancing pantless in abandoneds for planless dealers Scenes from the Moreau paintings in my…
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One man knife knight
Strives to talk more than 12 barbers plus five taxi drivers type Mercury diet In my alchemical lab, thriving Melling materia, praying wisdom from Athena Smoked so much weed feels like physical symptoms from diphtheria.
Alchemisland 