{"id":126444,"date":"2023-09-02T14:29:11","date_gmt":"2023-09-02T18:29:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=126444"},"modified":"2023-09-02T14:29:11","modified_gmt":"2023-09-02T18:29:11","slug":"hour-3-light-it-with-kerosene","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/hour-3-light-it-with-kerosene\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 3: Light it With Kerosene"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>My soul is a sparked match<\/p>\n<p>Capable of burning down every abandoned gas station in your stereotypical hometown<\/p>\n<p>that inspired every 80s movie about a guy named Brett from Chicago<\/p>\n<p>rebelling against the system.<\/p>\n<p>The last bit of the pungent, addicting smell of gas left in one of the barrels<\/p>\n<p>Is enough to light the world on fire in the darkness of dawn, a warm glow recreating a painting<\/p>\n<p>of orange and yellow swirls with the burnt taste of revenge as everything goes<\/p>\n<p><em>Boom. <\/em><\/p>\n<p>But my burnt match of a soul<\/p>\n<p>Has difficulty sparking anything in life<\/p>\n<p>When floods of thinking sizzle out the last of the smoke<\/p>\n<p>And the world is washed over in gray.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The sky is a clear blue, early morning birds chirping over an empty lot<\/p>\n<p>Their wings flapping away the fires where its passionate life stood minutes before.<\/p>\n<p>The motionless air brings about the sadness of reality that there is nothing left<\/p>\n<p>Of the past or present or the time anything ever mattered in the first place.<\/p>\n<p>The fertile land will always be covered in nothingness, dried up flowers packing their bags<\/p>\n<p>And flying off into the sunset, a shooting star that will never rise again.<\/p>\n<p>The burning fire is cold and heartless<\/p>\n<p>In her darkened hands covered in potassium chlorate, sulfur, fillers and glass powder,<\/p>\n<p>The same material that gave life to the glowing match;<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTutto \u00e8 bene ci\u00f2 che finisce bene\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>But now, the station will forever be on fire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My soul is a sparked match Capable of burning down every abandoned gas station in your stereotypical hometown that inspired every 80s movie about a guy named Brett from Chicago rebelling against the system. The last bit of the pungent, addicting smell of gas left&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4828,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-126444","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126444","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4828"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=126444"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126444\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":131839,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126444\/revisions\/131839"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=126444"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=126444"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=126444"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}