Author Archives: istsfor manity

Coda (an homage): An Indian Summer Evening   The dying day teethes On the tinny taste of bus exhaust. Eight O’ Eight roars away. Bayside shadows cast and reel back nothing. And now the toothy breeze Seizes the silver weeds  … Continue reading →

  The Dry Descent She hears a cry – the lamentation of a dying woman.  She turns, strains, to see.   No one.   She staggers on scree and falls heavy on her back; her poles bent useless after two … Continue reading →

(hit the play button and watch my film aposiopesis above) beyond salvation electra  paid bathed in green light straddles arms akimbo the fat man working furiously  on himself   no closer to heaven  or beyond salvation than he was this … Continue reading →

Abstract no. 5 I studied the core sediment samples from your heart The records show prehistorically your heart was malice Microscopic fossils mark displacements and loss I found demarcations of hopes dashed — and untimely deaths — Near the bottom … Continue reading →

  Under The Power Of Sixteen Electroshocks Under the stingy shadow of the fruta bomba tree Belkys sat trying to pluck the sun from the sky.  She used her thumb and index finger like a forceps but she failed.  She … Continue reading →

Distortion Poetics Distortion principle no. 1: avoid distortion. Distortion principle no. 2: defenestrate (often). Distortion principle no. 3: degauss after every visit to either of the poles. Distortion principle no. 4: cleanse fold and manipulate. Distortion principle no. 5: literature … Continue reading →

Fourteen Word Summit With Yesterday She needed fourteen words to complete her writing block.  She recapped her day thusly: A day of sickness. Here comes sickness… baby, baby, won’t you hear my plea.  A stomach unhinged.  A head stuffed with … Continue reading →

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

making the scene: 1974 curls in nudie pix his left pupil, untethered, a fugue childhood of monticule hunger   on loan, uncomfortably, wide-eyed face in cathode ray fuzz   hell-shock door, unlocked, “fuck away from the exhaust vent above”   … Continue reading →

Unholy Fissure / A Pivot Is Required S. Is familiar with this visceral disquiet.  The woman with the white tray — a ghost.  Delirium tremens.  Thick fog still clogs the world outside the window.  The interstate, with its lineup of … Continue reading →