Manifesto
1. it is addiction, the way the heat smells
the way it burrows into skin like a small thing looking to winter.
if you say, at least he doesn’t hit me,
the relationship is already aflame. dig out a hole.
your choices are tunnel to freedom or
be buried in it.
2. i love the smell of gasoline—honestly.
when i used to drive to the gas station, i would stand
in the hot wind and feel it soak into me
then breathe that smell, like a sour soup you cannot eat,
let it fill me up. the click of the pump handle
like a cocking gun.
3. different elements will burn with different flames, different intensities.
copper burns algae-green and hot; paper, buttery and soft.
plastic and glass melt if you fire them hot enough: after
the conflagration, you may find wine bottles which burst,
sent steam into the air, then congealed.
green ponds of what once held something precious.
4. there is a code of honor: you build after you destroy.
you burn for the love of the game.
you burn only the things
that belong to you.
Kitt Keller’s work can be found in Ghost Town, Four Chambers, Phoebe, Hoot Literary Review online, and Narrative Magazine. Kitt tweets semi-regularly @thekittkeller.
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