Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

the devil’s williwaw

Posted on April 9, 2024 by istsfor manity

10 Texture Related Moments in a Frou Frou Life 1. Wispy smoke tree fingers dying / story of Jesse. 2. Dry spotted witch alder leaves on my hand / apparitions in black. 3. Cold rasping breeze / the devil’s williwaw. … Continue reading →

in this (my) neighborhood pt. 59

Posted on April 8, 2024 by istsfor manity

What I’m Reading: Cycling was a way of staying in motion and coming home to myself. When nothing else made sense, I could go—dissolving into breath and sky—and let the wind rearrange me. — Laura Killingbreck / “Into the Wind” … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Nonfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Writing | Leave a comment

above the ottoman

Posted on April 5, 2024 by istsfor manity

The Pivot Point (redux) I’m not really hungry just now… she wrote longhand, the first time in weeks, in her journal. And she thought that odd because she’d been ravenous all throughout her illness, and hadn’t written a thing, but … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Writing | Leave a comment

i go blind

Posted on April 4, 2024 by istsfor manity

coronal mass ejection tanka watch how i go blindon glassless coronal blissi stare at the flaresregale the mass ejectionseyeless pinhole dejection What I’m Reading: This option of ‘giving up’ is only possible from a place of privilege. Let’s say we … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Haiku, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Tanka, Writing | Leave a comment

like coquina rock

Posted on April 3, 2024 by istsfor manity

Under the Sky It’s like coquina rockIt’s like Barbara wroteIt’s all ridges and teethWaitingWaitingWaiting to take a layer of skinLike a slice of oblongataLike other lower brain sectionsLike the Shell sign superimposedOver the Chevron chevronLike the freedom tower buildingCubans called … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Dream Notation, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Nonfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Quotes, Writing | Leave a comment

chaw of thistles

Posted on April 2, 2024 by istsfor manity

Like Glossolalia (redux) Like a van garde avant. Like drinking tea filtered through a Russian soldier’s underwear. Like speaking through saxophone skronk. Like drying your back with nettles and swallowing a chaw of thistles. Like bored sawing through panel board. … Continue reading →

lost the plot

Posted on March 29, 2024 by istsfor manity

Sanctioned by the Association of Urologic Twee (redux) (Fade Out / 8 channels of noise : one channel of noise drops out every 30 seconds until there is silence) Voiceover In Search Of A Film: Soft antennae entertainment turned minds … Continue reading →

on the heart

Posted on March 28, 2024 by istsfor manity

Mise en Squalor + Plagues This is a mise en abyme of a mise en abyme in a mise en abyme. This is historical quicksand. What of the Inquisition kitchen? A fungus settled on the heart. The Great Deficiency of … Continue reading →

in this (my) neighborhood pt. 57

Posted on March 27, 2024 by istsfor manity

What I’m Reading: The bicycle wheel is one of the strongest of all human contrivances, capable of supporting approximately four hundred times its own weight. In theory, a buffalo could pedal a bike without the wheels buckling under the load. … Continue reading →

can’t see me

Posted on March 26, 2024 by istsfor manity

Identity Reconstruction Tanka Now you see me, nowyou don’t. I’m lost to myself.Even I can’t seeme. These are the places Ilived. This is the art I made. What I’m Reading: Some beauty is visible only when abutted by banality. Spots … Continue reading →