Concussive Living Through Hot Turbulence and Friction

You’ve built your shrines on the tip of my tongue

My fingers– the perfect jointed pillars of Svartifoss

Eyjafjallajökull lies dormant inside of my mouth

My teeth are only ice caps

I’ll live louder than thunder,

Pyroclastic flow

Transfinite chain reactions

Heaven’s dust will settle again

Don’t worry