Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

Don’t D-76 / Don’t Stop / Don’t Fix

This ritual: its repetition is liturgical. A call and response in absentia. There is no rejoinder. There is no “and also with you.” What I’m Reading: “One form collective crime takes is marriage.” — Kathy Acker / Empire of the … Continue reading →

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the closed circuit

Flooded / Parched The things that were deleterious to her health were the things she enjoyed most in life. She found her life an endless set of binary “yes or no’s”—multivariate options always at the “0” or “1” click or … Continue reading →

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first world cavils

Raft of Tires Let us go then, you and I… Like a patient… lobotomized with Trotsky’s ice-pick. Let us go, through certain half… dim back-alley Havana streets where “los gusanos” dare to meet—away from the teeth of the revolution. Let … Continue reading →

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in our mouths

Central Smoke Bone She had grown red and corpse-like below the Danish authority standard issue yellow canopy—beyond the dune and deadwood. Nearby, crusted and congealed, many rats in hazel frozen a on twig. Bleating, and she a sheep, that sand … Continue reading →

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air is burnt

The Father: Guantanamera, 2002 The sun cuts a slice of light into his head. The stellate light streams through the window and blinds him. His last word is ¡Guao! The bullet fragments in his Broca’s area and splits the infinitive … Continue reading →

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slurry of words

Skronk Tectonics Plactivist—a disembodied word. Decontextualized. One word in bas-relief, that I heard her say, in a slurry of words not directed at me. Plactivist—decoupled and set adrift from its word cloud. It blazed like a meteorite across the my … Continue reading →

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we broke up

Fissure Kitty, Faun & I I tuned arpeggios at 6 and 16. ​Fissure kitty at a neighbor’s glance—under the shake-up of a manic-depressive trend—laden with oppressive fudge, in August heavyweight. I initiated it. My fissure sunbather fuzz, with fanfare drums—from … Continue reading →

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sweep of darkness

Condone / Condemn (i dag är det tisdag) I have no idea what she says, or what tongue she speaks. She doesn’t speak English or Spanish, and that’s all I can muster. I haven’t the slightest idea of what she … Continue reading →

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make it ours

Bully Boy Racers Boy racers setIn Sevastopol—Grandiloquence& eminence—On the blur frostway line.Two, three,six,ten & o n e (last)One.Boom. Boom.Vroom. ZoomWith a tambor & villainy.Clearing out the countrySide. Who you with, sonny? WhoYou with?I’m with thee manWith the shashkaOut to strafe … Continue reading →

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the gutter beat

deus ex machina pt. 2 deus in the wings, taking hits off the fog machine, directs with shakespearean aplomb deus as the hole in the sole of your quotidian shoes in the gutter beat deus as the syncopation of your … Continue reading →

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