Prosaic Miscellany
About Flash Fiction
My favorite pieces of flash fiction are poems in stealth mode.
They masquerade as harmless looking bits of narrative prose.
Too late, the targets feel the expansive properties of the sly
poetry that, once through the layers of resistance, explodes.
A failed flash deposits its shrunken bit of story and dissolves.
Toxic Narratives
There are many. The one I hate most is “Self-made man” (why is it never self-made woman, I wonder?). It lies on so many levels I wonder how anyone could ever utter it without a seething contempt cackling to itself off stage. It pre-supposes the most immaculate of conceptions. It pre-supposes human agency devoid of any cultural context.
It pre-supposes that wealth and power, skill and competence, accrete by the sheer power of an individual will. It is among the most appalling bits of spit ever issued by the mouth.
Some Days
Some days, you want all the red states to secede, expel
the opposition, provoke, and be justifiably blasted
back to the Stone Age until you recall-
they're already there.
My favorite pieces of flash fiction are poems in stealth mode.
They masquerade as harmless looking bits of narrative prose.
Too late, the targets feel the expansive properties of the sly
poetry that, once through the layers of resistance, explodes.
A failed flash deposits its shrunken bit of story and dissolves.
Toxic Narratives
There are many. The one I hate most is “Self-made man” (why is it never self-made woman, I wonder?). It lies on so many levels I wonder how anyone could ever utter it without a seething contempt cackling to itself off stage. It pre-supposes the most immaculate of conceptions. It pre-supposes human agency devoid of any cultural context.
It pre-supposes that wealth and power, skill and competence, accrete by the sheer power of an individual will. It is among the most appalling bits of spit ever issued by the mouth.
Some Days
Some days, you want all the red states to secede, expel
the opposition, provoke, and be justifiably blasted
back to the Stone Age until you recall-
they're already there.
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Author's Note
Sometimes, like dust, things collect.
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Love all three. LOL at the last one. *
Try living in a red state. Oy! At least I live on a blue island.
Enjoyed this.
All three are good. I like One, because it touches on something I struggle with daily. Three also.*
Especially like Toxic Narratives. Good writing, Gary.
I found it funny (although as a Gael, I have little idea what a 'red state' actually is!)
Well done Gary! The triptych from works for this. "About Flash Fiction" especially resonates with me! *
"My favorite pieces of flash fiction are poems in stealth mode"
Exactly.*
Thank you, Jake, Charlotte,Gary, Sam, Steve, Michael, and Amanda for your time and commentary.