Mercury in the Pan - Electric Bard

The temperature is climbing up the inside of the wrist Don't tell me to relax or unclench the bloody fist That word is kerosene upon a pile of seasoned wood I spent the entire winter doing everything I should Biting down the cheek until the copper fills the mouth Watching every decent expectation drifting south A drop of quicksilver rolling in a skillet on the fire Jumping sideways, skittering with dangerous desire My shoulders hit the drywall, my breath is running short Tired of the diplomatic, reasonable report The kettle lid is dancing, the steam is screaming high I am looking for a target that can look me in the eye Boil The Quicksilver In The Shallow Pan! Pushing Past The Limits Of A Reasonable Man! Let The Pressure Fracture Every Compromise! Spitting Out The Venom Through The Polite Lies! You offer up a platitude to smooth the ruffled fur Making every single hidden grievance want to stir I am not a project for your Sunday morning repair Or a stubborn animal you manage with a stare The dishes in the drying rack are rattling with the tread Of eighty angry memories marching through the head I crack an iron skillet down upon the iron grate Done with playing gentle, done with learning how to wait The silver bead expands, it breaks into a dozen spheres Scattering the wreckage of the polite little years Three... Two... One... Stand back from the stove. Boil The Quicksilver In The Shallow Pan! Pushing Past The Limits Of A Reasonable Man! Let The Pressure Fracture Every Compromise! Spitting Out The Venom Through The Polite Lies! There it goes.