Wednesday, April 11, 2012

A BOG ABOUT HER

On hold hold on a sunken relationship like socks and sandals that have parted too late too late too late napkin crumpled between her lips touching the clouds caught in her lashes making them making her making everything appear thinner everything appear as it is thinner and just won't go away hold on a sunken relationship like like like too late in a bed heads rolled up into the sheets from the guillotines of waking moments depends on off to the next appointment for mummifying her little body in the tilted chair of the next appointment clamping open shrieks that pierce into the subsequent go ahead take a sip too cold too late the too late of the clouds caught in her lashes making them making her making everything appear thinner everything appear as it is thinner and just won't go away hold on won't be but a moment on hold held shut.


On hold hold on to what holds it back back at the zoo for another viewing of what used to run around play having gotten the eyes over the shoulders out of sight out of mind out of their minds they go again there they go again out of sight out of mind out of their minds they go again there they go again and they're off coming in on the outside coming out on the inside alongside all the inside jobs outside of it all alongside the big hands try to squeeze their hands held holding on on hold under shrieks that pierce into the subsequent go ahead take a sip too cold too late the too late of the clouds caught in her lashes making them making her making everything appear thinner everything as it is thinner and just won't go away hold on won't be but a moment on hold held open for filling in forcing in the filling in of the holes around the time of having not cared or known about the holes being there including the ones by the water dragging it along into this gap where other feet can't be found to stand for toes to spread and fingers to squeeze into the pockets between little fingers that learned to snap the other day the day before the rest will snap snap into place.


"Can't read."


"We'll tell her in just a about how long a length of time would you say it should be?"


"Can't read.  Maybe about as long as it takes to go down the hallway."


"It's not a very big hallway.  Can't even put more than a picture or two a few pieces of tape."


"My throat is folding against reading.  We could walk slower or even stop by the drawing of all the rectangles she made."


"Not so loud," was spoken through eyes that tried not to meet those other eyes holding out while holding on on hold hold on to what holds it back back at the zoo for another viewing of what used to run around play having gotten the eyes over the shoulders out of sight out of mind out of their minds adding stuffing filling in forcing in, "the old runaround," was dropped out through eyes that tried not to meet.


"You want me to do what?  Run?"


"No.  You were right slower is good.  Something has to be another dead pet how many can she be told about and then her lips and her cheeks will move like when she has food in her mouth I told her to finish that she just can't bring herself except her eyes are doing that now they're slightly more open held open clamped open by what is filled with light forced open by light the air around us you can put your book back in your room."


"That will make it longer for me for us to get down the hallway to her her eyes you're talking about her eyes and I want to put the book away.  I put it down so I can't see the cover only see nothing on the back so I don't have to think about it."


"We're face down."


"Like when we play cards and don't want to give it away.  What we have in our hands.  What do you think she'll want next?  What can she have next?  Can she have anything next?  I hope it won't die so soon."


"I think she heard us.  She's coming down the hallway."


"I want to distract her about the rectangles she drew, but she should know."


"We have something to tell you.  Something sad."


"I don't know if I can go back to reading stories."


On hold hold on under the sand another one this time under the sand buried hiding from not to meet those other eyes holding out while holding on on hold hold on to what holds it back back at the zoo for another viewing of what used to run around play having gotten the eyes over the shoulders out of sight out of mind out of their minds adding stuffing filling in forcing in, "the old runaround," was dropped out through eyes that tried not to meet.  Like when we play cards and don't want to give it away.  What we have in our hands.




- Max Stoltenberg



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