Saturday, October 1, 2011

LOGICS OF NUMB

Swallowing post-nasal drainage occupied the territories of most minds.  Stacks of empty notebooks under a blanket of lint a shroud of some sort fallen into a category or system of categories of sorts.  Let alone interruptions all alone with too much sorting distracting from a current that is stopped up by stacks of empty notebooks.  Brutal beasts of wisdom deceiving beginners with false starts and traps on treadmills surrounded by reflective hostility.  


Emptiness is circumvented by sentences that keep advancing towards the same old periods of black holes that loop back and forth between volumes of the lost.  Consecutive sentences restarted and revised cut and pasted consecutive concurrent sentences begin again with an accumulation of the ingredients of understanding laced with the roots of decay a hereditary grammar dubiously proceeding and receding occluded with detail the details that clings to socks and their fibers of missteps.  Nor nor that which implies and invests nor divests paper colored blank vocabulary disliked and ostracized.


Nor the mouse looking through the page worn by erasure nor the absence of insects replaced by the presence of slugs  holding the buttons down in failed attempts to close into privacy viewing setup menus searching for more channels where viruses spread propositional waste.  The mouse nor the slugs provide enough weight nor open measures to rest the outstretched out on a limb nor nor that which implies and invests nor divests paper colored blank vocabulary disliked and ostracized.  


Anorexic words retching over an abyss miniaturized into a fun-sized psychosis up and away through another discipline put in its place nor the corner nor center stage tumbling into the back row exhausted in the lobby unable to find the next showing late but will be excused to appear before the next tribunal's memo inciting another run through yet another run through.  Nor next nor last.  


An old couple that had died within a couple of days a couple of minutes of each other when they were younger before they first met on and off separating reuniting and separating their separate ways on and off nor replaced by the presence of slugs holding the buttons down in failed attempts to find their dream home only a dream only a home only a room in someone else's home in someone else's mind occupied with swallowing post-nasal drainage nor eating loaves of white bread with nothing on any slice whatsoever pinching to wake up not waking up pinching to wake up.  


An old couple that had died within a couple of days a couple of minutes of each other when they were younger is fast-forwarded to their last couple of days last couple of minutes rewound to before they met and lived on and off with each other dying within a couple of days a couple of minutes of each other they are still dead.  End tables surround stacks of empty notebooks devoid of the complete and filled with forgetfulness.  Driving toward mountains that never get any closer based on an adaptation from an unoriginal source denied by neighbors diagonally across from unrequited reciprocation.  Nor suppressing retaliation nor admitting nor admitting nor nor also nor nor.


Efforts at clarity have been meticulously knitted into the mesh wrinkled by the on and off which has evolved into the sporadic off and on and edited out by sentences gummed up on parallel treadmills in more locations unzipping flies on beaches nor beaches nor lakes concluding in one individual standing in the desert out on a limb outstretched for a job description adding lines and buffering the family from their presence replaced by the presence of slugs holding the buttons down in failed attempts concluding in one individual standing alongside others in the desert out on a limb rubbing elbows outstretched for job descriptions adding lines repaginating to the next sheet nor the mouse looking through the page worn by erasure adjacent to sentences advancing towards the same old periods of black holes that loop back and forth between volumes of the lost.




- Max Stoltenberg 

No comments:

Post a Comment