$25.00
EQUILIBRIUM OF FIRE
MOHS “Starshow Voice” c90 – Edition of 1
The volcano listens.
Tape threads coil through magma,
lava pulses in rhythm with hiss and static.
Acute bursts of molten pain,
sinuses inflamed like chambers of desire,
ash clouds twist into nasal spirals,
echoing melodies that sear and soothe.
Side A: distant stars hum,
lava streams carve musical veins.
Side B: reversed longing loops endlessly,
chronic throb burning twelve-week arcs,
every eruption a chorus, every tremor a lyric.
Do not play alone.
Unchecked, the mountain may explode,
or burn its sky into melody.
But if you listen, truly listen,
love, fire, and music fuse:
a heart of magma, a body of tape,
an organism of sound and ache.
"I am Starshow Voice. I am fire. I am eternal."
PART TWO:
The volcano no longer stood alone. Starshow Voice c90 had burrowed into its magma, threads of tape winding through rock, ash, and molten core. Each note became a vein of fire; each hiss a pulse through hardened lava. The mountain could feel the music in every crevice, in every inflamed cavity of its molten sinuses.
Side A sang of distant galaxies. Pressure built inside like acute sinusitis, sudden bursts of pain echoing through magma channels. Smoke hissed like steam from clogged passages. The volcano shuddered, venting ash clouds shaped like pharynxes and nasal cavities. But even in pain, the music soothed, each static-laced melody a balm that flowed like liquid rock through its swollen core.
Side B reversed itself, looping endlessly. Chronic sinusitis settled in, a persistent throb over twelve weeks of Venus-like heat. Lava rivers pulsed in time with the tape; ash clouds twisted into spirals that whispered phrases of longing. The volcano could no longer distinguish itself from the cassette. Its eruptions were refrains, every tremor a chorus.
Sometimes the pressure became dangerous. Nearby mountains trembled. Lava spewed unpredictably, threatening valleys below. Untreated, the merged organism could explode, infect the sky, or burn the clouds themselves. Yet the volcano learned to channel the chaos: acute bursts became musical staccato; chronic throb became sustained drone. Its sinuses—now entirely fused with magnetic tape—acted as amplifiers for Starshow Voice.
In the end, the volcano was alive in a way no mountain had ever been:
Its magma flowed in melodic arcs.
Its vents pulsed like speakers.
Ash clouds carried melodies for miles.
Every inflamed cavity, every throbbing core, resonated with a love that was both pain and song.
And somewhere in the hiss of tape and roar of fire, the mountain whispered to the stars:
"Acute or chronic, inflamed or calm, I am music. I am fire. I am Starshow Voice."
It was no longer just a volcano. It was a singing, burning, living cassette, a heart of fire and magnetic tape, eternally in love and eternally aching.
Edition of 1, unduplicated.