Apothecary

Beneath the ancient gallows tree

There sits an old apothecary

Where deep within its ancient rooms

Resides an old man selling ‘shrooms

That he has harvested from soil

Of graveyards where the serpents coil

And if the ache screams in your joints

Just follow where the way-marker points.

The place smells of dust and moist mildew

And the foul dark liqui...

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Antigen

He knocked at the door

Shouting ‘let me in!’

Tempting us to go out

With his whisky and gin

He hid around corners

Under tables and chairs

Trying his best

To catch us unawares

He was sitting on benches

Where others had sat

He was on garden fences

Where we’d stop for a chat

He was hanging around

Tesco trolly parks

He was all over door han...

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