Standing in the garage next to the garage in the alley where the bins arranged the contents once in the garage now in the alley the contents once in the alley before becoming the contents of the garage to return to the bins arranged and rearranged. Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk. Hands tear envelopes and paper within. Paper within.
A couple of sheets half-torn fall to the ground leaning against the wall. Hands pick up and unfold the half-torn sheets. Small print whispers the following:
Program instructions for tracing. After creating identities tracing out traces with a program developed based on instructions for following traces of created identities developed out of paths developed and traced out skip a tear to understand skip out of programs built on skip tracing based in part on identities torn here and here skip skip to an end. Notoriously brief due to hesitation and indecision. They moved about each other tracing paths traced out of hesitation and indecision. Unfinished approaches completed by isolation. Clouds hung above with no progress like leaning against the wall of the address where former and subsequent residents no longer occupy only occupied with tracing out something the only thing returned.
Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. Too dark for the figure with long brown hair brushed from her face by a wind carrying her words in small print absorbed by the patterns traced in the rock she is leaning against the large rock that obscured the vast forest in the valley below and beyond. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk.
Approaching the set of mailboxes. Beginning of the week's middle waiting for the end to last and it does for not so long as it lasts. Tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste this street these houses across the street where the set of mailboxes now on this side of the street where the tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. Approaching the set of mailboxes walking away from the set of mailboxes the only thing being returned the rest is junk. Touching nothing. Walking away from the house approaching the address the address on the envelope the only thing being returned with the wrong name. Stepping into the house and standing in the doorway noticing the books and the picture the rest is junk. Dull sound of the empty metal box letting it drop flat now. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The set of mailboxes towards approaching towards resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. No following steps. No approaching steps. Across the street on this side where the roofs obscure the cemetery where a vast forest below and beyond no longer at this address. That side across from what once was has followed what once was becoming the contents returning. The only thing returned.
- Max Stoltenberg
No comments:
Post a Comment