The Subtle Arts of Chemistry Dance the benzene ring around, whirling six times three— trace Lewis dot sigils in quicksilver, ionic bond prisons for errant souls. Mendeleev’s sacred alphabet hides a multiplicity of gods, one hundred eighteen abbreviated divinities. Write their names on your heart in columns ordered by gravitas. Beware the so-called noble gases. Aloof, they cannot be trusted to aid when you call. Put your faith in earthly things – carbon, oxygen, hydrogen and helium, sun and starlight, knowing you are already liquid by nature though solid in form, perhaps to sublimate someday. Titrate glucol and atropa belladonna drop by drop into a solution of artemesia absinthium. Note the moon and the lady in your lab notebook, the subtle changes in the green. Dream of sailing natural satellite seas, a basalt summer cottage on the shores of Mare Imbrium, guide your meditations toward the Technicolor advent of distant stars, birthed from the dust-cloud of your regrets. |