"I'm getting up. Sleep your life away. You're too lazy even to be a minion."
How striking as her words are dispossessed of their usual tone of squeezing a life a body out of the toothpaste tube and onto the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day. And away we go! To the floor what progress getting down to it to her she found it out got a life a body squeezed a blap out of the toothpaste tube and onto the floor even by not directly referring to it that's the game now the name game now or lack thereof there is a lot of that a lot of lack around the lot around the yard around the house today the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day with a threat of bedlam on the horizon of the window blinds that's what bed is for squeezed out of the toothpaste tube onto the floor she got a life a body she gets a kick out of it another name out of it out of bed an understudy for a minion pulling cat fur off the lower lip pulling very little off with the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day.
"Don't think you can thumb for a lift when you've had it up your ass."
Where is death's sting to take the dull ache of life away? Someone got their footing for sure sure footing sure cracked a rib possibly sure about that sure footing cracking a rib possibly all things are possible when it comes to violence. Death's nighty night is put off as what is rank and ranks below the below average minion lies in a fetal position covered with schmutz. Climbing up to the next dead end has been replaced by lowering one's self. Scribbling in the carpet underneath between the leftovers left over who knows how long oozing with words coming out like covetous grubs in the hollowed out family tree what a reunion the gathering of disorders ordering each other around this is our lot around the lot around the yard around the house with the threat a threat of bedlam on the horizon of the window blinds that's what bed is for squeezed out of the toothpaste tube onto the floor she got a life a body she gets a kick out of it another name out of it that's the thing of it that's the thing with anonymity you have to stay true to the name of it out of it out of bed an understudy for a minion pulling cat fur off the lower lip pulling very little off with the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day this is the day that they have made as their books get thicker and minds get flatter as their dicks get harder and vaginas get bloodier. Just scribbling in the carpet underneath between the leftovers left over who knows how long oozing with words coming out like covetous grubs in the hollowed out family tree reeking with metaphors painted by smelly hands crawling out from the crack of the world.
"I'm dead serious. Men deserve a good ribbing."
She gets a kick out of it side-splitting humor splitting hairs hair pulling trying to get her footing as she is dragged along to somewhere else as her thoughts smack into each other on the wall on the inside of her once flowing head of hair struggling to get out to be somewhere else other than the somewhere else she is dragged along to to wait her thoughts wait between locked doors made to wait made to order as it gets it together gathering together for another get together ordering each other around what order what was that what order smacks of order her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks of boots and fists gathering together to gather her thoughts together in a pile made to wait made to order between locked doors between men over and under inflated.
"Get out."
"To get some coffee you mean. That's what you mean. That's what I mean. What else is there when one needs to move? Did you ever hear the one about the group of four adolescents who ended up in the stocks while exploring some family history in a remote and abandoned town? No? Anyway, one of the teens starts recalling an incident to the other three that had to do with this guy she used to date regarding what happened to her in this storm drain and how they had gotten caught in a flash flood and only she survived after he had asked her to go with him be with him people and their meaning people who ask and people who go people who get washed away and people who keep their head above the flood waters while the rest of their body and the rest of the people and the rest of their meaning. Forgetfulness is an interlude that wants to be longer each time the message scrambles desperately to rescue what's left on the molding loaf of bread."
It's here to stay. It has to be. They have made this day with their preservatives preserving and protecting from not wanting. All she gets is a kick out of it a calendar out of it scratching out days as more lurk underneath for the looming rash of making her mark with the marks made on her made to wait made to order what order what was that what order ordering each other around smacks of order her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks of boots and fists gathering together to gather her thoughts together in a pile surrounded by stars gathering to set them ablaze as her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks as her eyes squint tightly within the wisps of hair of smoke disappearing into the crack of the world.
- Max Stoltenberg
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