ON THE HOLE

On the hole painted ourselves around the issue trying not to fall for shades of disaster and make them of a crisper crispier taste for the eyes that's what is for now on the hole about to become nothing to worry about don't let it get to you while on the hole as we circle and look away to let these crisper crispier eyes stare off into the final frontier of space so open as make less room for anything else already here as we pay less attention distracted on the hole front 9 back 9 turn it on turn it off alive one moment dead the next and rolling pin of celebration is brought out in all its concern seeping out of the woodwork the seething woodwork painted ourselves smiles around the issue even when it gets on shirts sleeves fronts stomachs inflating with perimeters pushing space beyond our further beyond our disregard for the next one on the list that was thrown away when finger nails punched a code that still ran a program of a loop while it lasted for the probably lasted for the probably the last message of the final message from someone.

There was once lying at the bottom of the pool where that pool where in the diseased and now deceased were rolled painted past edges to splash without expression without color only as a percussion of ending concussion of the Earth's merciless ingestion of all that sprouts before becoming before becoming fat thin dead to be retracted from those all those ignoring heads turned from sprouting and painting around the issue let alone to gently fall away on the hole for nothing that there was once the sediment of affinity hair that lost its body lost from its wandered from that body her at the bottom of the pool dug for a reservoir where both could claim could be claimed and lost those fingernails pushing into that palm those palms these palms where a tongue her tongue licked up little dashes of blood like reading music of a pianola in lover's code fraying strings of code to separate and escape from where it cannot make roots on the hole a ground hardened by light that light hardening the plane the field the level and dead even playing field emaciating glimpses of her face and multiplying rules and fences fences and fences rusting around rusting vehicles for destinations that will elude their reach for on the hole painted ourselves around the issue trying not to fall in falling in would be better than slicing and dicing our curiosity bled of shape bled of form bled of thought only the kind to follow too scraped and spent to flee on the hole painted ourselves around the issue issuing as it does on shirts sleeves fronts and stomachs inflating inflating with perimeters pushing space beyond our further beyond our disregard for the next one on the list that was thrown away when finger nails punched a code that still ran a program of a loop while it lasted for the probably lasted for the probably the last message of the final message from someone.


- Max Stoltenberg