Author Archives: istsfor manity

Unknown's avatar

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....

yes (redux)

Yes… You are alive. That’s something. “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — Mary Oliver / “A Summer Day”

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

doomscroll done take

Doomscroll Blues Doomscroll done take my baby away Gotta check the cnn Gotta check the nbc Gotta check the nyt Gotta check the washpost Gotta check the bosglobe Gotta check the miaherald Gotta check the npr Gotta check the abc … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

rankled raffish pincers

Three Dreams on a Somnolent Afternoon I. I went under last summer. I was tedious. I was trite. Summer raged. I withstood, until I couldn’t anymore. Lids often closed as I approached. Blinders blinked. It was forever the moment after … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

on a floe

last winter haiku god left us alone bodies sharp as icicles adrift on a floe “Knowledge is impossible. We are precisely nowhere, sinking on an entirely imaginary ice floe, into entirely imaginary seas themselves adrift. Then we reel out love’s … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

his destiny manifest

Short Entitled Fuse … and in another precinct someone latches on to the idea of redemption — but in this rainy neighborhood, and specifically in this newly repointed brick building, a man (we’ll never learn his name) has confessed to … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

pyramid of being (redux)

Parenthetically A god lost in her bathroom finds a door… (to the outside? No) She finds the door to the next life. She burns: “get back, get back to that nebula!”   Not The Steerage Type Steerage is so queer. … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

got pumpkin voodoo

the heebie jeebies this is about a poet who writes bird poems — without birds appearing in the poems mouth breathers and thirteen year old prostitutes often appear crying artillery shots echo in the blue distance the poet is a … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

jack-faced and jocular

Pill-age Jack-faced and jocular you meant to rob your parents because you needed a shot in the arm. You’d already ransacked your grandmother’s apartment for her pain meds — her doctor wondering how one person could tolerate so many pills: … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

wallow in silence

Overheard at the John Cage Symposium Every time there is a large gap on radio or television,John Cage is paid a royalty of $4.33.This is why people sit and listen to rain.I’ll make a presumptive statement…I want to hug this … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

gratuitous jump-cuts

Born Again I’ve been healed, but it’s going to be a rainy day tomorrow. It was revealed to me that profligacy leads to losing scrapers and brushes — and uncontrolled oven fires… or was it oven fries? I’m not sure. … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , | Leave a comment