Tag Archives: Writing

explode all canons

Posted on February 5, 2021 by istsfor manity

Overheard at the IHOP… … I once had my foreskin tossed in the food processor by a moyle who didn’t know how to spell mohel. Unfortunately I was still attached to said foreskin and that’s why I’m called “French Tickler … Continue reading →

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50 million faults

Posted on February 4, 2021 by istsfor manity

plagues caused a future of fragments 50 million faults What I’m Reading, or: What I Just Finished Reading (a continuing series) Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions / Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (2017) A slim book length essay … Continue reading →

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disappear in plain sight

Posted on February 3, 2021 by istsfor manity

Identity Piece in Reconstruction Now you see me now you don’t. I’m lost to myself. Even I can’t see me. Where do I come from? We came from Cuba. We came from Spain. And I can’t track my family back … Continue reading →

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in barbaric ice

Posted on February 1, 2021 by istsfor manity

(click on the play button above & watch my short film doppelgänger) HyperthermHaiku An atavistic blood ablution, frozen sharp, in barbaric ice. The sun sliced a cut of cold light onto his face — a bullet-dry hole. A frozen wasteland … Continue reading →

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not yet cracked

Posted on January 31, 2021 by istsfor manity

Mr. X Decides to Build His Dream House During what was the longest six months of my life, bedridden after a near-death experience, I could not sleep and the only thing that kept me alive was Eraserhead.  I watched that … Continue reading →

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nothing is imbued

Posted on January 30, 2021 by istsfor manity

A Billabong A distortion in her preflight instruction A 4-hour flight turned into a 15-hour ordeal A crash in a Peruvian penal colony A float down the Amazon River on handmade raft A month adrift in a state-sized billabong in … Continue reading →

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i wish i

Posted on January 29, 2021 by istsfor manity

“I do not care if I am writing a poem or a letter—it is just making marks on a sheet of paper that delights and envelops me.” — Mary Ruefle / Madness, Rack, and Honey

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of hemlock breath

Posted on January 28, 2021 by istsfor manity

death stain haiku death row lights bait him guilty domed screen suicide dram of hemlock breath What I’m Reading, or: What I Just Finished Reading (a continuing series) I Hotel / Karen Tei Yamashita (2010) Sprawling novel comprised of ten … Continue reading →

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kick the skull (redux)

Posted on January 27, 2021 by istsfor manity

Waxing Indecisive I. “You think grave digging is something to be embarrassed about? Everybody needs a grave digger, son.” “I believe you father, but in these times of pestilence I feel overburdened. While the other kids play kick the skull … Continue reading →

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keeping him dead

Posted on January 26, 2021 by istsfor manity

Gun That Weighed A Ton (haiku tercets) Once, my father’s gun was proferred open-handed as proof of his love. He sat naked, wet, at the edge of the bed, said, “I didn’t, for you.” I felt horrible that I was … Continue reading →

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