Tag Archives: Experimental writing

never ending line

Posted on May 15, 2021 by istsfor manity

Clodomira’s Lament She had a dour doughy face. She dredged countless bodies up in her memories. Daily humiliations relived. Ruminations leading in on themselves, self-reflexive, like an never ending line of diminishing versions of herself in a funhouse mirror. She … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

a nervous shadow

Posted on May 14, 2021 by istsfor manity

A Nervous Shadow Approaches “I don’t have to run from anything because I don’t believe in anything.” — Flannery O’Connor / Wise Blood

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

not paid for (redux)

Posted on May 13, 2021 by istsfor manity

Buzzards on Parade The twelfth day of the month was Copperhead Wednesday. Serpentine was the look we were going for. Beatific upper register notes is what Maria was reaching for: Ta da la ta da la dao, was what she … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

nice marmot, man

Posted on May 10, 2021 by istsfor manity

Overheard at the Bison Watering Hole Marmot: We don’t need no stinking Bison! Bison 1: What’s with him? Bison 2: Nice marmot, man. “The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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 →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

harangued and harassed

Posted on May 2, 2021 by istsfor manity

Tide Pool Nature repulsed her in myriad ways—psychological and visceral assaults. She needed to be harangued and harassed—everyday and in every way. Her Sisyphean rock would be the nocturnal infrared world she sensed in the water. She would remain in … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

infrared all night

Posted on May 1, 2021 by istsfor manity

Tenebrous She went away to Maine for a day. The water was infrared all night. A fitful trip during a tenebrous year. “In the process of being broken open, worn down, and reshaped, an uncommon tranquility can follow. Our undoing … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

nothing was itself

Posted on April 30, 2021 by istsfor manity

Niz-nil-limbo She no longer knew what to make of anything— She understood nothing— Nothing was itself— This meant nothing. This means nothing. “It doesn’t matter what time of day you work, but you have to work every day because creation, … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

or your spleen

Posted on April 26, 2021 by istsfor manity

A merry place to lose an eyeball or your spleen. Being splenetic was only the half of it. There was no self awareness. “Lesson Ten: Poets, forget the classical meters, except if it’s to keep you above the breadline.” — … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

of feral hair

Posted on April 23, 2021 by istsfor manity

had it with what—or the couched girl worked with a story—language angels—wet dashed door never a nobody in terms of feral hair—capitalist lizards—upward themselves let illustrations labor logical—their have is where there’s secret poorhouse—down unwholesome work—shoes in flames—free the working … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment