a metal that melts in hot water

a metal that melts in hot water



no muse, all nerves. my hands are mottled as though marbled by a purple-palmed italian bookbinder. the colors spread out and are diluted by alcohol. all grace is saving and i am one step ahead of the wolf in that i am dried before hanged.

we sprayed water on it and it exploded in the garden. fragments of microwave-safe corningware fell amongst the barbed wire rose thorns safely inside the blast radius. we shuffled our feet and smoked cigarettes, all of us wishing we were somewhere else. then we went there.

you are damned right i played with toxic materials as a child. i thought it was something more fun than bike-riding to break open thermometers and push the mercury around. once we broke open a real barometer and bioaccumulated the quicksilver in our palms. i scryed into the minimata pool and felt a dying horse galloping inside my murmuring heart.

hero's engine, if ever built (doubtful) was a toy. a sprinkle of salt or even some sugar into simmering water will lower the boiling point. in the absence of flavor or the bareness of cupboard, or in the circumstance of a cruel retraction of sweetness, heat alone will suffice.