Witch Hunt

One of the rules at the poetry slam is:
if you don't like something someone says,
talk to them outside.

i get up to read my poem.
after i'm finished,
nobody claps.
damn.
i exit the venue for a cigarette.

and every single person in the venue follows me outside lol.
"i want to talk to you about your words!" someone scathes
"your poem offended me!" someone seeths
"it was fiction" i say
"what a bullshit excuse!" someone yells
a few of them are getting really angry...

i decide to leave.

but they follow.

i decide to run.

they chase.

"what the fuck, leave me alone, it was just a poem..."

but a few catch up with me, grab me,
throw me down

"no, no, please, stop" i plead

but the punches come.

"seperate the art from the artist! i'm a good person!" i scream

and the kicks come.

now i'm being spit on and—

oh, it's gasoline.

i'm being lit on fire.

it hurts, but,


the flames are gorgeous.