Author Archives: istsfor manity

The Dream: Bushwa Bill  The god of the godless oversees this place.  There is no lodestar here. All is coal, bituminous and gas fires. Everyone wears a sheen of black. Coal dust and gas floats through the atmosphere. The air … Continue reading →

bushwa bill’s haiku gas fires choke the night —  coal and bituminous blue —  breath of the godless “Basically, that’s why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.” — … Continue reading →

I Had Me A Wife, I Had Me Some Daughters Massive heat dome come Down on me — I’ve run myself Ragged — nobody knows What I’ve done to my family. As the Fata Morganas shimmered away —  I dug a hole … Continue reading →

Popcorn Double Feature Various ideas for your book: Include a scene at the rheumy palace —  Maybe a nonfiction setting on shipwrecked cay.  Maybe not. Use these words liberally: Ablation; asperity; cassocks; chasubles;  hooded cowls; astringent; incursive; afflux; minikin; Grand … Continue reading →

Softcover Words Read this “How to…” book and communicate in softcover words your hard cover deeds — herding sheep and goats, lying with packs of dogs, theorizing  yersinia pestis theorems, and puzzling though a sheaf of sanity assassins. Read about the … Continue reading →

Strange Circle Sheet Cakes I says to him: “Remember to put your on mask before you go inside.” “What?” he says, and moves violently toward me. “This is not a test. This is all you get. Why not make the … Continue reading →

Embrace Those Demons Listen, Walter: Don’t fight the demons in your head; that will always be a losing proposition.  You must realize the demons are there. The demons were invited in at an impressionable age and will always live in … Continue reading →

Mr. Heartbreak Yeah, my name’s Walter. I’m waiting for a pourboire for my opuscule. Not anything major, mind you, but something to make me feel like putting up with this indecency of a life is worth it. I plink on … Continue reading →

Recrudescence (haiku / 7.5.20) The marking of time Shelves away this fever dream The ichor of death “No more war, no more plague, only the dazed silence that follows the ceasing of the heavy guns; noiseless houses with the shades … Continue reading →

because america… (haiku / 7.4.20) plastic army men molten into balls of green hot and mottled death “Writers are solitaries by vocation and necessity. I sometimes think the test is not so much talent, which is not as rare as … Continue reading →