Today I shaved my head. I sheared everything I could. The side of the barn. The staving finches at the feeder. The trembling underside of my balls. It all went into drift, into gossamer, and bell- bottoms. Swerve. Here’s a picnic: I’m prostrate. Everything. My reference: 973- 232. It’s on my wrist. Please don’t hiccough me into the Third World with bad saxophones and bamboo and other guacamole ingredients. I have yet to know how to learn to sleep. Release me.
Robert Vaughan teaches workshops in hybrid writing, poetry, fiction at locations like The Clearing, Synergia Ranch, Mabel Dodge Luhan House. He leads roundtables in Milwaukee, WI. He was a finalist for the Gertrude Stein Award for Fiction (2013, 2014). His flash fiction, ‘A Box’ was selected for Best Small Fictions 2016 and his flash, “SixGlimpses of the Uncouth” was chosen for Best Small Fictions 2019 (Queen’s Ferry Press). His work has appeared in Hobart, Ghost Parachute, Big Other, Smokelong Quarterly, and elsewhere. He is the Editor-in-Chief at Bending Genres, LLC.