Author Archives: istsfor manity

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....

how we doomscroll

Posted on November 3, 2025 by istsfor manity

Day of the Dead Prerogative (redux) I dreamt of zombies last night. I asked you where you put them: In the garage? You said in the closet. I told you to move my father’s stuff over and put your stuff in … Continue reading →

broke each other

Posted on November 2, 2025 by istsfor manity

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week An inhumane system demands inhumans, and so it produces them in stories, editorials, newscasts, movies, and television. — Ta-Nehisi Coates / The Message Long has paled that sunny sky:Echoes fade and memories die:Autumn frosts … Continue reading →

a disembodied voice

Posted on November 1, 2025 by istsfor manity

Celibates and Paraphiliacs (dead sooner than later) Sustain yourself with necro-normative inclinations, make use of what you consume, trap your inner child in an iron maiden. Spend time with your inner critic’s internal monologues parsing the sections of your Id … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Day of the Dead, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Nonfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Writing | Leave a comment

neurons are frayed

Posted on October 31, 2025 by istsfor manity

undesirable tendencies (redux) a welfare check on my chickpeasa moral bankruptcy pulls mefrom a restraint on my stoopa clue found in my miniature espresso rasp—my neurons are frayedwhile packing peanuts + PFAS dilute my membranesthumb-actuated airguns are hard to beat … Continue reading →

arc of transcendence

Posted on October 30, 2025 by istsfor manity

Or better yet, both superimposed Feeling particularly frisky and having been born in foul moonlight amidst the rancor of heat and the solitary investiture of a love shorn largesse — and because of this tainted spite — he bears a … Continue reading →

of cemetery intimacies

Posted on October 29, 2025 by istsfor manity

The dead sugar skull phylactery factory I’m the pit of a floating wreck. Decked in dreck and delivered with the deckle of dynastic disjuncture — stop me from breeding before this sickness festoons another dead end generation. A wireless conflict … Continue reading →

frontispiece in shards

Posted on October 28, 2025 by istsfor manity

forks (ukiah • haiku • tanka) an eye asquint at weatherroam through the ruinsfrontispiece in shards anew cling to my vestmentsforks in the road are not forksmy hairshirt newly shredded you look up and smileblinded by the ecliptic —apocalyptic —you … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Haiku, Microfiction, Nonfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Tanka, Ukiah, Writing | Leave a comment

these haggard years

Posted on October 27, 2025 by istsfor manity

Room for You at the Bottom of the Bay (redux) The A plane by way of A. Johnson, brought down by ritual and lack of victuals. Deadeth on arrival: thorny ocotillos and twenty minute count downs. Tomorrow I’ll learn about … Continue reading →

to save them

Posted on October 26, 2025 by istsfor manity

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week With the events in Cuba and the Philippines, the United States increasingly became a “culture of war” with a sense of global purpose, prone to jingoistic eruptions. The rhetoric of war became that of … Continue reading →

geophony of home

Posted on October 25, 2025 by istsfor manity

Medium-Density Amorphous The longing for home—as darkness descends & sickness and death lurk at the peripheries. The new ice—the medium-density amorphous ice. The geophony of home—how the wind howls at 212 feet elevation. It’s good to be home—wherever that is. … Continue reading →