Tag Archives: Biomorphic Art

endless looping funhouse

Posted on August 13, 2021 by istsfor manity

Overheard After Obsequies Yes, I was lonely. But now I think things will improve… I woke up with eyes on my hands—double vision in continuous lap dissolve. I’m looking at the eyes on my hands as they look back at … Continue reading →

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dissolution was set

Posted on August 8, 2021 by istsfor manity

Dream of Fire My husband dreamt the sheets were on fire, and I wouldn’t come in the bedroom. He called and called for me, but I would not come. When I finally walked in he asked, why didn’t you come? … Continue reading →

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in hype city

Posted on July 26, 2021 by istsfor manity

Hormone Brouhaha in Hype City Pleas go unheeded Plaster of Paris casts are discarded Pantunflas and precocity are abstracted in medical journals “Unblock Party: When you’re having trouble thinking of new ideas, go to one of your old ideas and … Continue reading →

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by that apparition

Posted on July 23, 2021 by istsfor manity

the apparition On 07.23.21 Mary was unable to write much, haunted and paralyzed by that apparition all those years ago—now making residence again somewhere deep in her mind. She had a day full of distrait, disinhibition, and discountenance—deliberate and unseen. … Continue reading →

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it’s awful offal

Posted on July 21, 2021 by istsfor manity

Mary’s Baroque Personage Minimalist clap trap insouciance get away from my baroque personage. Someone once said they were transpecies extraordinaire, and someone cut in and quailed: surrender your gender; then an acerbic other cut in sniping: exploiters, exploiters, exploiters while … Continue reading →

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holy by happenstance

Posted on May 5, 2021 by istsfor manity

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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make biomorphic art (redux)

Posted on April 25, 2021 by istsfor manity

A Case of Writer’s Block Clodomira could not work on her novel anymore. Her amygdala, congenitally small, blew a couple of nuclei.  That caused a fiber in her subiculum, long frayed, to brown-out.  And down the line, in quick succession, the mammillary … Continue reading →

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