Frankenberry's Attic

A Frankenblog

  • Ants

    Since moving up the Albany way I work now a few days a week from the office of our stations in Latham, and on my way in earlier last week I noticed this in a field I pass right by the airport. Now yes, things are a bit different up here, as any place new… Continue reading

  • Fact Is The Beholder

    (a sort of call/response to a recent piece from a friend of mine … parallax) Totally FactLet’s look at the factsthey say,years later I’m still waitingnot like I’m Vladimir or Estragon, lost in someexistential crisis cafe whereeven the coffee hasn’t arrivedat table five or any otherand probably won’t;if facts were goal poststhey’d never stop movingin… Continue reading

  • So Then Sunday On A Saturday: Brand New Trump Key

    Thought to take a “So Then Sunday” post to a new extreme, as if repeating old posts on a Sunday with a made up name attempt to be similar to a Throwback Thursday wasn’t extreme enough but to then take one and have it happen on a Saturday instead? Jesus man! Worlds out of balance!… Continue reading

  • If A Forgetful Serial Killer Lost A Toenail And Got Postcards

    (an overly dramatic Frankenberry broken lost toenail story) Had a broken toenail (stubbed right foot, on a heavy box, not that that matters or maybe it does, I’m not sure) that was slowly growing out when I noticed underneath my PC desk, blood, pooling. A good bit actually and a now wet red sock that… Continue reading

  • Possible Sniffers (flash fiction)

    A new flash fiction prompt from Melissa, to write something from this pic. “Mom, stop, we’ve talked about this, it’s a different day. Artie and I have told you, plus you know I can’t, I have messed up insides, we just can’t, just deal with Chrissy and Semblance (of a cat) and Penelope. Now are… Continue reading

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  • Of Moms, Sons & Assorted Friends (flash fiction)

    So another Flash Fiction/Prosery prompt at dVerse Poets from Melissa of Mom With a Blog of the usual 144 word max type (not including the title) and the prompt this time around was a line from a poem by Tina Chang “I am haunted by how much our mothers do not know.”  Melissa explains it… Continue reading

  • Gray

    I had the most random of asks the other day, “when did you start getting gray?” from the coolest of strange kid I work with, the one I would have befriended in high school to protect him or maybe he would have befriended me the same in my own strangeness as having a wingman is… Continue reading

  • Baby, It’s a Tax Scam (song revisit)

    Trickle, trickle, trickle … It’ll trickle down to you, you poor unwashed masses, eventually, we promise, the economy … since Reagan this empty promise (now please grab a shower or something, break out a damp washcloth at least you stinky bastards … sheesh!!) Seems the Orange Devil, amid whatever words can be gleaned from a… Continue reading

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  • Tableaus and Nightstands

    Something for a latest dverse poets prompt. ////////////////////////////////////////// I was all a reach with tableau which sounds like table but wasn’t as it don’t hold no lamps or knicks instead real tried light and knacks to table tableau’s nightstand sleep wishes to reach when night comes hard unforgiving dreams of cold monsters that scream for… Continue reading

  • Oranges and Halter Tops (flash fiction)

    So I have this new friend who posted an idea for some flash fiction, with a picture to base it on. “Do you see anyone?” “What?” “Do you see … dude, never mind. You are just fucking dim” “No, I don’t see anyone and yes, I see that too and no I’m not dim, sometimes… Continue reading

-The Cricket

-Bella

-Arthur

-Saphira

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