Author Archives: istsfor manity

flarfish 25: fanfaronade picaro he got the call of the west he go, he went, to idaho when he attempted to lay hands upon others — they resisted his choler rose — fandango fanfaronade fantoccini fantod faradism farfel fasces the picaresque romance … Continue reading →

idaho well ablution i went to the well and saw jesse floating there her eyes frozen on the concrete sky above arms splayed at her side gently lapping in the blackness her eyes were stone gray i went to the … Continue reading →

dry tongue lost (idahaiku 2) midnight dry tongue lost — fear seeps esto perpetua — down the barren path “Avoid the world, it’s just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.” — Jack Kerouac / … Continue reading →

he hit the road (idahaiku 1) he hit the road west shuffle off to idaho big sky and road blanched “The more you read, the more you will write. The better the stuff you read, the better the stuff you … Continue reading →

flarfish 32: cramoisy reptar To reptar may every gentleman, by one eye, or disgrace Find his rental or his campsite location around the repatriation of CRAMOISY in his own private idaho reptar = creep reptar cerca literatura and draw connections between key … Continue reading →

 Newsruption You will no longer be bothered or financially hurt for your role in a benches-clearing confrontation at the place where they check all your boxes according to a photo posted to Facebook. You will no longer be bothered … Continue reading →

Détentes There’s a tool they use to set things right. But it won’t protect them from the bitter cold of a nighttime swim through the shark infested straits. A tool of last resort — shaman life hacks! Tabernacle huckster butters! … Continue reading →

Encomium I walk in circles gyring — elevating ever outward until I’m circumnavigating your boundless denigration. Deliver me — enervated — from invigoration as you deliver me from hating myself long enough to despise you. I’ve placed myself at this … Continue reading →

Be now. Be here… Ima walking superpower. That which transfixes me becomes putty in the transom of epistemology. Hallowed ground burials are a thing of the past. Everything I was told as a child turned out a lie. Our parents … Continue reading →

Your Ruff Collar, My Millstone We live under the heat dome.  I see you across the barren parklet.  You are eating bits of soft pink babies.  Humid. My hair wilts.   Your curls frizz.  I lick the hot sauce off … Continue reading →