Monday, January 7, 2013
Flash Fiction by Davis S. Pointer
Binary code stampede. Fiscal Cliff rescue. Buffalo grass, spirit world lap tops and national park museum concrete on the way. Pond water canteens filled with liquid gold flown off to gated community safe havens. I. II. III. The record producer told the poets that they were creating art that nobody wanted. Double candle lamps working triple shifts. The table of contents contained no Thanksgiving dinners or monetary compensation. At the bottom of the Fiscal Cliffs, writing and non-life inks on.
David S. Pointer has recent acceptances at “Stone Canoe,” Rattle,” and Mad Rush.” He writes from Murfreesboro, TN.
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