Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

why read signs

Posted on April 29, 2021 by istsfor manity

Signs & Legends There is no legacy in semiotics, she thought—nothing to tether to—not land, historical connection, cultural heritage—it was a deep deracination. She found no reason for planting any of her own signs, for setting my own roots, for … Continue reading →

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

the sharp husks

Posted on April 28, 2021 by istsfor manity

The Point Clodomira’s legs are whirring pistons.  She’s up over 100 revolutions per minute on her bike.  The countryside streaks by her and in these few seconds there is no revolutionary struggle, no ultimate leader, no great leap forward.   The fervor of … Continue reading →

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

make biomorphic art (redux)

Posted on April 25, 2021 by istsfor manity

A Case of Writer’s Block Clodomira could not work on her novel anymore. Her amygdala, congenitally small, blew a couple of nuclei.  That caused a fiber in her subiculum, long frayed, to brown-out.  And down the line, in quick succession, the mammillary … Continue reading →

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

gibby’s golden age

Posted on April 24, 2021 by istsfor manity

Making the World Safe for Capitalism You play me “The Internationale” and I’ll stand and sing? Sing what? Sing the anthem? Huh … wha … anthem? Yes, it’s an anthem. I’ll stand and sing. You just play it. I don’t … 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

crackle and hiss

Posted on April 22, 2021 by istsfor manity

Another Record Two 33 1/3 rpm records are arguing with each other on Christmas Eve 1992. One record, Casserole by The Tinklers, cedes the polemic to the other—The Shaggs’ Philosophy of The World.  “That’s OK,” Casserole says as it spins … Continue reading →

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

up with people

Posted on April 19, 2021 by istsfor manity

(press play button above for my short film: parapraxis) Try the Truth We’ve all had contact with death, or with typewriter bullets resounding. We’ve seen zucchettos falling off heads—miters beatified without popes beneath them—and then sought the refuge of the … Continue reading →

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

feckless anagram composition

Posted on April 15, 2021 by istsfor manity

(press play above to watch my short film, cloud generator) Feckle of Fug Fugue Fickle In a land where nothing of note took place—except waiting for something of note to take place—here, there lived a figure, a fixture, of feckless anagram … Continue reading →

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

my sloth is

Posted on April 7, 2021 by istsfor manity

Who Woke Up Sucking a Lemon? When ironing I do most of my day’s work. I imagine I hit people with all my force—my shirts double for the people I really dislike. You text me that I have to hit … Continue reading →

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

his grandmother teaspoon

Posted on April 6, 2021 by istsfor manity

Threnody for Slim Goat James (a found & erased document) James is believed to be buried in increasingly popular places. Find him near the barnacles, spider crabs, cockles, razor clams, and a mix of slim goat and sheep. He was … Continue reading →

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