Tag Archives: Hybrid writing

a nervous shadow

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

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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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nice marmot, man

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

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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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holy by happenstance

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

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i step away (redux)

Fall Fall. Fall, I say. She doesn’t. She stays perched on her branch. Fall, I say. She does not. This ritual—the repetition is liturgical. A call and response in absentia. There is no rejoinder. There is no: and also with … Continue reading

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harangued and harassed

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

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