New Poem: Alchemy

I had been on my own in my office for about three

hours. It’s on the top floor of a converted factory.

I don’t lock the door. People don’t drop in. It hasn’t

got my name up. So I’m sitting at my table when a

young guy walked in and said, ‘Have you got any

books on alchemy?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t think I do.’

He said, ‘That’s a shame because I’ve been doing

some alchemy. My brother is a musician but I’m not

going to go down that path.’

I said, ‘Alchemy was big a few hundred years ago.’

He said, ‘Really? Wow.’

I said, ‘People in Shakespeare’s time were keen on

it. Actually,’ I said, ‘what a coincidence, I’ve got a book

about a man called John Dee, right here. I’ll look in the

index. Oh yes,’ I said, ‘there is lots in here about alchemy.’

‘Are all these books yours?’ he said.

I said, ‘Yes.’

‘Can I buy that one off you?’

‘No,’ I said.

He said, ‘What are you doing here?’

I said, ‘I’m writing.’

He started laughing.

I said, ‘I’ll write down the title of the John Dee book.’

‘To tell the truth,’ he said, ‘I don’t really do reading.’

‘No worries,’ I said, ‘can you use google?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘just google ‘alchemy’ and see where it takes you.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I’ll do that.’