print previewback ANDREW KOZMA
Manifesto
I didn’t kill a person, I killed a principle!
—R.R. Raskolnikov
The one you’ve killed is dead, and to be dead is to be nothing.
Nothing fills the space between us. Nothing is a cloud of spores.
All past manifestos have avoided inimicable topics
such as love, but love waits like a mycelium, dormant for years.
This manifesto is not an intellectual. This manifesto is a virus.
This manifesto is a protein sheath holding you inside it.
The principle was an idea and ideas are ripe for resurrection,
though this means eternal dying. Photons give of themselves
to your eyes a picture. All perception is a lie sunken into
flesh that holds like a hollowed eggshell. I stand at the door
interpreting your sleep, and the meaning of naked limbs
that have held my fingerprints. Futures are built on erasure. 
Body Bags
Karen Greenlee
Manifesto