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Tag Archives: Experimental writing
please call often
Press the play button above to watch my short film “it’s my birthday, too, yeah!” (1:10) Fugu-Flaker The days whir and zone by—fast as light—light / dark, light / dark, light / dark (so mournfully dark), light/ dark, light … … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Blackout Poetry, Chance Operations, Collage, Creative Writing, Crows, Cut-Up Writing, Dada, Dream Notation, Erasure Poetry, Experimental film, Experimental something, Experimental video, Experimental writing, Fiction, Hybrid writing, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Poetry, Post-Apocalypse, Prose Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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in my neighborhood
At the end of the film I’m on my back staring at the night sky… The man who helped me is lying nearby—his mouth bloody… We’re lost in a thick fog of tear gas—the sky disappears above us—the occupation failed… … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Documentation, Drama is the Opiate of the Masses, Dream Notation, Experimental film, Experimental video, Experimental writing, Flash Fiction, Hybrid writing, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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in my neighborhood
Step into the Muse’s shoes— What is this place? What does it mean? Work in your own small corner— A better place in the midst of a slow apocalypse. “All I remember is my mother’s tears and my empty stomach. … Continue reading
in the haggis
Two Views: Temptation Inside I. n + 0 Sister Ray was in the habit of cleaning her habit every Friday after vespers. After a sponge wash she’d iron the habit singing in low sussuration to her favorite Velvet Underground songs … Continue reading
toothy bride-to-be
coda : ouroboros / n+1 thru n+15 … the dying day teethes on the tin tautology of exiles eight o’ eight rogues away bayside shambles catacomb the toothy bride-to-be seizes the singed week with violent shanks & ratters the bayside … Continue reading
the word piles
the heebie jeebies (redux) this is about a poet who writes bird poems —without birds appearing in said poems mouth breathers and thirteen year old prostitutes often appear crying artillery shots echo in the blue distance the poet is a … Continue reading
florins for eyewear
The Last Nimbus A nebula forms around my headboard& congeals—a pulsating fathom’s roost. A blinding white flash—great speedwell & arrowhead fall. Encrusted like the lotus-eaters—incubated / intubated / spacesuited /pillows backboned. A pair of florins for eyewear—now set for the … Continue reading
make anything happen
Pumpkin Thoughtbot Dream Get it together and join up now. What are you doing for fulfillment? Do you hum “fa la la, tra lee dee” much too often, throughout the dark days, the creaking nights, and in your barren dreams? … Continue reading
at the off
Off-News at the Off-Chance at N+7 “I would be really sad if I didn’t write. I think I would feel really purposeless and silent and depressed if I couldn’t write. I don’t know if I would be that depressed if … Continue reading
white bread m.o.r.
Bluetoothing the Novel Maple bacon cheddar pizza, I say, repeating what she just said to me. I need a snack soon, she says. A swoony-jazzy song plays like it’s 1967—remember the smarmy song playing in The Graduate when Bancroft is … Continue reading