Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Back up.  Out of the corner.  Give yourself some room.  Back up and smell the coffee.  Let it help you hear what you just said.  Are you sure?  Are you certain?  100%?  Absolute?  Back up.  Under that light.  Seeing as well as hearing your discrepancy.  Doesn't match with what you said a paragraph ago.  Three or four sentences or so.  About a paragraph ago.  Back up.  Out of the corner.  Give yourself some room.  Come over here.  Let us see.  Let us hear.  It'll all come out in the end.  In the end.  The end.  End.  Trimming the embellishments.  Weed whacking the decorative intertwinings like tangled lawns.  Tangled and confabulating runs at it for yet another attempt at making the cut.  Cut all right.  Snipped. 

Back up.  Just a blinking blooming minute. Back up. Off the petal.  Away from the pedal.  We'll have none of that anymore.  Back up.  Leave.  Back to the bottom of the stem.  The ground for you to dig and start again.  Back up.  Back up.  Hold on.  A paragraph or so ago.  Smell the coffee and see as well as hear yourself say those words.  Those words that give you away.  Strip you away to your deformities.  Try again and remember to start over.  Get going.  Hurry up.  Back up.  From the very beginning.  In fact, from before the beginning.  You've got to prepare for the beginning.  Back up.  Commence from before even that.  Ensure enough room for yourself to even begin to think of gathering your preparation for the beginning.  Back up.  Come out from where you've been cornered.  Come out from where you painted yourself into a corner.  Back up.  Back way the hell up.  Way the hell up.  The hell up.  Hell up.  Hell.  Back up and come away from that corner you painted yourself into.  Back up.  Come away.  Stripped away.  Down to your deformities.  For all to see.  Your deformities.  Can't do a damn thing with that, can you?  Back up.  Come out from that corner.  Start again.

- Max Stoltenberg

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