Tectonic Trill

Hold your dulcets

your salty pinch

my opaline rage trills

across to lick the walls

set the paper a-smoulder


smalt pop veins

rills on my skin

& napalm sacks bob

inside my argent cage

like the bouncing heads of kings

each strand on my crown

a wick for your assassin’s kiss

fumes of petrol sylphs

march through my flaring holes


a beryl statue sizzling

luminol

chlorine

lithium

shades blaze to jet


envy me flaming bird

oil-slick lids unyielding

each tear a flicker to flick

may mine set your fire alight


{First exhibited in the Hilbert Raum, Berlin alongside Maurizio Bongiovanni}

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© Brad Cohen 2020