Tag Archives: Writing

the terminal point (redux)

Posted on March 8, 2021 by istsfor manity

What Ails You? “Mama? What’s a welkin? Is that like a pickle?” “No, dear. It’s the vault of the sky. The firmament, you know?” “Is that like something permanent, Ma? “No… It’s Satan! Satan! Satan! Satan!” The clouds part and … Continue reading →

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an outside thing

Posted on March 7, 2021 by istsfor manity

Pinned Dig, Digby, dig. Digby stomps on his shadow in the schoolyard. He tries to blot it out because it won’t stop following him. Digby believes the shadow rains down the indignities he suffers, although he doesn’t put it that … Continue reading →

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of dyspeptic ruin

Posted on March 6, 2021 by istsfor manity

Ingestion This week from the site of ingestion —from the site of dyspeptic ruin— the moment you swallowed the hegemonic tincture and began your slow disappearance into the stew inside the melting pot. “Don’t try to figure out what other … Continue reading →

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a deficient ejaculation

Posted on March 5, 2021 by istsfor manity

Besotted with Crots* 1. Quetzalcoatl Crank— the sign says— this is a great place to live! I’ve got to get out of this crot. 2. It’s not helpful that you speak in an endless stream of psittacisms while I’m trying … Continue reading →

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dumpster-bin nonchalance

Posted on March 4, 2021 by istsfor manity

Self-Portrait (as the Jubjub Bird and the Frumious Bandersnatch) Down South Jocose in those dying days of Sancti Spiritus. They jostled and jointed, they foisted and hoisted, the beams up to the sky. Mountain joists of slick primer. Letters fell … Continue reading →

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sometimes silence

Posted on March 3, 2021 by istsfor manity

sometimes silence “You write what you write, and then either it holds up or it doesn’t hold up. There are no rules or particular sensibilities. I don’t believe in that at all anymore.” — Jamaica Kincaid

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claw trails glistening

Posted on March 2, 2021 by istsfor manity

Blues Cat Haiku Anger kitty struck, bloody claw trails glistening, cool blues filigree. “Anger after someone has died is a cake on a table, fully risen. A knife housed in glass.” — Victoria Chang / “Victoria Chang”

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molasses death spiral

Posted on March 1, 2021 by istsfor manity

Stuck Abecedarian It was drenched green. The gazetteer absconded with verisimilitude and we were left in this wasteland clenching our drooping marigolds. The villain left vanilla footprints and the abecedarian was stuck on E. Something sticky dripped down our hot … Continue reading →

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the colors blanched

Posted on February 28, 2021 by istsfor manity

eyeless and unctuous take my eyes i want them not there is nothing worth seeing in this world now the colors blanched everything i saw lost its definition it all went soft “Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself, … Continue reading →

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in a vise

Posted on February 27, 2021 by istsfor manity

head in a vise the seventeenth electroshock a peppery taste “So it is better to speak remembering we were never meant to survive.” — Audre Lorde / “A Litany for Survival”

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