Beyond are the Triangules that keep screaming while the circle has gone very sad because the strontium tagged it.
Two burnt out matches are falling down. Their phosphorus smell makes me cough and lose my balance. Down there in the distance the copper and zinc of the church cross blink and García Lorca walks by with his pet seal.
I fly through a toothy rainbow; it’s sticky with spring.
A man is playing basketball with a promethium watermelon. The guitarfish is watching him but the sad duck decides to leave.
Close by: Argentum! – the sound of two motorbikes crashing. Cadmium and Rhodium, the men with bottle top heads, have come to the rescue.
Hafnium horse, tantalum snake, number 72 – No, no, you’ve got it wrong! You mean me – me! Quetzalcóatl, the plumed serpent, eating the man; a human sacrifice that ensures Helium will rise again tomorrow.