In popular history

the alchemist was a figure of mystical greed

in dark workshops,

forever reducing the base

in the search for gold,

‘midst mumbled incantations

and closely guarded formulae.

Her history

is one of worldly spendthrift,

perceiving that gold

is the base with the lights on

and shouting the obvious

to the oblivious

from the rooftops,

in words of one syllable like

‘love’.

The alchemist of old

was frustrated by the poverty of iron.

She

is frustrated by the poverty of light.