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Abi Palmer


Method: Place a salt flake on the tip of your tongue. Close your mouth and read the following poem aloud. Do not swallow until you reach the word ‘swallow’.

storms are looking tangible. sun’s axis leans, tipping sunbeams a-leaping to shade. alas, love, the skies are loosening. that scarred and languid Titan spits atom-like thunderclaps. seal all locks: there’s something at large.      then.

slowly, and like teardrops spilling, all liquid trickles, silently arising. let the streams ascend. lurching, they swell as land turns sealike, all tiny sailors afloat link together, shouting AHOY loudly (they’re shelterless, angry, lonely), there’s
saltwater against lemony turgid skin

at least ‘til ships approach land,

then, speak about luck! that sunken Atlantis lurks, trinket-scattered, as legend tells. sandy anchors lower to sparkling, ancient, lungless terrain. seafolk are looming – they’re sharing ancient loot!
swallow all lowly terror,
sit afloat, love the
storm, and look: treasure

Abi Palmer is an artist and writer exploring the relationship between linguistic and physical communication. Key work includes Crip Casino — an interactive gambling arcade parodying the wellness industry and institutionalised spaces – shown at Tate Modern, Somerset House and Wellcome Collection (2018-20) — and Sanatorium — a fragmented memoir that jumps between a luxury thermal pool and a blue inflatable bathtub (Penned in the Margins, 2020).

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