Tag Archives: Microfiction

go go go

Posted on May 11, 2021 by istsfor manity

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

Posted on May 9, 2021 by istsfor manity

(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

Posted on May 8, 2021 by istsfor manity

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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a dayglo flower

Posted on May 6, 2021 by istsfor manity

I Am Deleterious to your state of mind. That’s what he said! Can you believe it? The nerve. I’ve been reading Psychology Today for forty years, and he has the temerity to insinuate such a thing. Remember how up to … Continue reading →

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120 vexillologists installed (redux)

Posted on May 4, 2021 by istsfor manity

wish you were here, the insects are legion (maine version) The dust, the arid heat, the vexillologists.  None of that made any sense there.  It was a tropical rainforest last year when we booked, and the defoliation and climate change left the … Continue reading →

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i step away (redux)

Posted on May 3, 2021 by istsfor manity

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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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 →

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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 →

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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 →

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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 →

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