Author Archives: istsfor manity

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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....

a dayglo flower

I Am Deleterious to your state of mind. That’s what he said! Can you believe it? The nerve. I’ve been reading Psychology Today for forty years, and he has the temerity to insinuate such a thing. Remember how up to … Continue reading →

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holy by happenstance

Scything The difficult made holy by happenstance. She was delirious, but understood she’d make the first cut soon—minutes, perhaps seconds. She recoiled imagining the pain. The rain in Maine stayed mainly in her brain. She moved—graceless—in a fog. The reaper … Continue reading →

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120 vexillologists installed (redux)

wish you were here, the insects are legion (maine version) The dust, the arid heat, the vexillologists.  None of that made any sense there.  It was a tropical rainforest last year when we booked, and the defoliation and climate change left the … Continue reading →

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i step away (redux)

Fall Fall. Fall, I say. She doesn’t. She stays perched on her branch. Fall, I say. She does not. This ritual—the repetition is liturgical. A call and response in absentia. There is no rejoinder. There is no: and also with … Continue reading →

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harangued and harassed

Tide Pool Nature repulsed her in myriad ways—psychological and visceral assaults. She needed to be harangued and harassed—everyday and in every way. Her Sisyphean rock would be the nocturnal infrared world she sensed in the water. She would remain in … Continue reading →

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infrared all night

Tenebrous She went away to Maine for a day. The water was infrared all night. A fitful trip during a tenebrous year. “In the process of being broken open, worn down, and reshaped, an uncommon tranquility can follow. Our undoing … Continue reading →

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nothing was itself

Niz-nil-limbo She no longer knew what to make of anything— She understood nothing— Nothing was itself— This meant nothing. This means nothing. “It doesn’t matter what time of day you work, but you have to work every day because creation, … Continue reading →

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why read signs

Signs & Legends There is no legacy in semiotics, she thought—nothing to tether to—not land, historical connection, cultural heritage—it was a deep deracination. She found no reason for planting any of her own signs, for setting my own roots, for … Continue reading →

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the sharp husks

The Point Clodomira’s legs are whirring pistons.  She’s up over 100 revolutions per minute on her bike.  The countryside streaks by her and in these few seconds there is no revolutionary struggle, no ultimate leader, no great leap forward.   The fervor of … Continue reading →

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smattering of skulls

The Shrike Strikes The kill. The shrillShrikeStrikesCarnivorous—Tears a mouseHead from neck— Alights proudUpon his moundOf bones &A smatteringOf skulls. The thrill. “The Germans puzzled me. What a waste. Was such a destitute, cruel world worth ruling?” ― Jerzy Kosiński / … Continue reading →

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