The Petrol Artist

Mania, Mania, 

Men slay themselves with overdoses 

Before they get this high,

Firestorms brew and ignite

Inside this mind at War. 

Sprinting and vaulting back

Through the doors

Of the house I set fire to 

The flames guffaw, yet 

I lead the chorus of laughter

Night after sleepless night.

Dancing, dancing

To the rhythm of falling debris,

To the piercing cries of sirens,

To the crackle and pop,

Of crispy wallpaper

Sailing through an aromatic odyssey;

The barbecue black smoke perfume 

Of a room encased by flames. 

Showering myself 

With the benzene can,

The Petrol Artist 

Sets himself alight, 

Dancing, dancing 

Merrily, having 

The time of my life.