Tag Archives: Fiction

are wandering rogues

No Longer Required Hortensio awoke and his arms were on vacation. A note stated that his left arm was touring the Costa Brava, visiting the sites where Joan Miró sketched a biomorphic vision or two—while the right arm was tracing … Continue reading

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baby gongas always

Watch Your Broccoli Sprouts Proficient in “metaphoricals,” but lacking in “metonymicals,” it was decided he had some finesse for the “synecdochicals.” It mattered to no one on the staff that they were bastardizing the terms in this official report they … Continue reading

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dry tongue mouth (redux)

You Cannot Be Anything If You Want To Be Everything In her dream she was at a garish fairground carnival under a cloudless dayglo blue sky. She was separated from her parents. She panicked. She was lost in this strange … Continue reading

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in the arboretum

Witch Alder After eating two dozen Witch Alder bulbs … Blah blah blah … vomitus regretus … He hid from the others in the arboretum … “Just make something, anything.” —Austin Kleon / austinkleon.com

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never ending line

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

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not paid for (redux)

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

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took to fisticuffs

The Tuneless Ballad of Rostay Toonany and Chemo Destrapè Clowns and claustrophobes both. Masters of microbes and microbiomes—and bonhomie. Too much probiotic nonsense squelching their wheelhouse one day, and they took to fisticuffs. Oh, what a dastardly day for all! … Continue reading

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go go go

Walk! Walk! Go west, go east. Just go, go, go. Get up. Get out. Get moving. Peripatetic be your word. Bump! Groove. Make way and scoot along. This place will grow moss on your backside. Don’t backslide. Get moving, man. … Continue reading

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crying never stopped

(Press the play button above and below to watch my short films: mother’s insides day & your mother here…) Manta Ray is All Right On the eve of her first Mother’s Day she dreamt she was trapped in the supplies … Continue reading

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hand drawn scrawls

Late Stage Pandemic Dream Robert Smith is miming one of his early music videos. It sounds like “Fire in Cairo,” but it’s not. He’s jangling his guitar at the end of a narrow white tiled hallway which you note has … Continue reading

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