Tag Archives: Cut-Up Writing

in my neighborhood

Posted on November 16, 2021 by istsfor manity

To help me further illustrate the immortalwe mayfly and quilt towardindecision and worry trips. Why do the shambles—the tomtits of whistle plaid doos—the pachinko palleters suffer the nape of the midden? You are an empty idyll in is true hue—swizzled … Continue reading →

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in my neighborhood

Posted on November 15, 2021 by istsfor manity

I forget what that final word is … Time fog is hellish … What more do you require on the day of your death at 5:26 am? You’re welcome! The signs of the apocalypse are stark and plentiful. “I must … Continue reading →

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time at night

Posted on November 11, 2021 by istsfor manity

Dreams of Bioluminescence Because I didn’t want to go, I made my partner cry. I feel poorly today, both physically and now because I made him cry. I have a predisposition for alienation—and a tendency to make more of sirens … Continue reading →

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off my arteries

Posted on November 10, 2021 by istsfor manity

Idioteque, Arizona Speaks Philanthropy feels more like idiopathic shill-anthropy in these waning days of the Anthropocene. Cleave my heart on your plow, speed the ventricle asunder, and wave the cluster of veins, arteries and capillaries over your head. Oh what … Continue reading →

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fool-animal earwigging

Posted on November 9, 2021 by istsfor manity

Highest Eminence O, pallid bat, wombat, scarlet tanager, marmoset and all the little animals of the world that spark wars and worldwide grief! Listen! Ye who visit our leaders’ dreams at night and whisper all types of destructive and inhumane … Continue reading →

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ooo baca foo

Posted on November 7, 2021 by istsfor manity

Ghostwriter, Motorcycle Hero, Appears and Disappears, Disinterested or Shocked, or: The Writerly A.I. Acquires a Moralistic Streak and Leaves Its Aurthorial Responsibility Behind A small group of kids stand gathered in a circle in a pizza parlor in a sleepy … Continue reading →

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and you say

Posted on November 5, 2021 by istsfor manity

Today, The Past, and Some Night to Come He lives with ephemeral creatures beneath his feet and stanchions around his bed. A case study in diverting his elbow’s loose skin and the stubbing of his tender footing. In the darkness … Continue reading →

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of fighting unhappiness

Posted on November 4, 2021 by istsfor manity

Tell Don’t Show / That Thing i. The pith of the pang is what I pity. Nowhere is it written that this must be done, but I strive to do it nonetheless for fear of not doing it with empathy. … Continue reading →

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gonna lay down

Posted on November 2, 2021 by istsfor manity

I Once Was Lost (redux) He first sang a song called “Brave New Defalcation Rocket.” I had no idea what he was on about — a caterwaul that passed for singing, I suppose. He desultorily strummed on an electric ukulele, … Continue reading →

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a kind thought

Posted on November 1, 2021 by istsfor manity

Celibates and Paraphiliacs 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 with a rusty chainsaw … Continue reading →

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