Tuesday, June 19, 2012

PARALYSES

Flat the world was flat on its back his back he was flat on his back on the world that was flat rather more like a mound under his back couldn't make time for picking out where he had fallen.  Skipped sandals came off after they scraped out an unfinished dance scraped out right off the cement skipped skipped someone skipped a turn and the play going around as it goes around doesn't seem right right off the cement skipped and scraped out an unfinished dance scraped out right off the cement skipped skipped sandals came off after they scraped out an unfinished dance scraped out right off the cement skipped skipped someone skipped a turn and the play going around as it goes around doesn't seem right right off the cement skipped skipped someone skipped someone's turn.


Flat the world was flat on its back he was flat on his back on the world that was flat rather more like a mound under his back couldn't make time for picking out where he had fallen.  Depending on the approach how one approaches it they approached one on either side of the heap.


"Fallen in a heap or on a heap have you?" said Pasty.


"Is that any way to start?" asked Wafer.


"He could use a frightening start to jostle him up a bit," responded Pasty.


"You and your unorthodoxies," said Wafer.


"I think we got to him just in time," noticed Pasty.


"My brain-case is flooding with numbers," said Wafer.


"There you go flooding again.  No wonder you never get anywhere.  You're wading for the world to be turned into one humongous zero-depth pool sloshing around in circles stuck in your diluvian maelstrom," said Pasty.


"Maelstrom.  You'd like that wouldn't you?" asked Wafer.


"I would, actually," said Pasty.


"You and your miserable miserable," idled Wafer.


"Well?" invited Pasty.


"Miserable miserable," continued Wafer.


"Do go on, Wafer," said Pasty.


"Miserable miserable," continued Wafer.


"I think you've covered this ground already," said Pasty.


"You and your," said Wafer.


"Don't hold back you hammered memory card.  Allowing yourself to spew forth with the ample equine stream of jeremiads will remedy my feeling so one-dimensional," said Pasty.


"Miserable necrotic worm-like harbinger of of," struggled Wafer.


"Now is not the time to run out of inflammatory momentum.  I can see the raw nerve open in the end zone," said Pasty.


"Harbinger of of," choked Wafer.


"No, you have to back it up all the way like you did before and give yourself enough space and time to refill the old bladder," said Pasty.


"My bladder isn't that old," insisted Wafer.


"Never mind that.  In the end zone," said Pasty.


"What was that?" asked Wafer looking about the deserted lot.


"The raw nerve," said Pasty.


"No.  What was that sound?" asked Wafer.


"What?  What sound?" asked Pasty.


"What is that?  I'm trying to figure out what that sounds like," said Wafer looking off further toward some boarded up homes and fields overgrown with thick weeds.


"I'm still focused on what your finishing insult was going to be  but alas while voices hem and haw fumbling with the same turning and turning of phrase to patch over the stinking hole in the banner above our heads we shrug our shoulders and brace ourselves for the next condemnation," said Pasty.


"That sounded like when distant loud trucks run over something that makes an even louder noise," considered Wafer.


"You mean like mattresses filled with horse manure?" asked Pasty remembering inaccurately a familiar scene elsewhere or it was elsewhere that Pasty could recall more accurately unfamiliar scenes.


"How would they be loud?" asked Wafer as the implosion in his skull of a stereo that once was before it provided its feedback that was no more echoed and echoed like most of what he tried to say but got stuck in the echo as he blinked from the aftermath.


"I'd hate to be on the curb right there when those mattresses take those tires and give up their explosive wave after wave of horse manure.  Could imagine it as an abundant stacking of overpumped mattresses. 10 or 11 of them," said Pasty.


Leaving so soon?


What are you writing with?  


Turds, turds, turds.


Inveterate rot working its way onto the litterbox recipe nodules of cake and fancy free free of fancy stuck together and the cutting board lacquered with allergic expressions expressions so allergic to so many directions all the directions tried and even wrenching one's neck or back in directions directions each with their allergic expressions on the cutting board pavement cutting board office walls for tracking the whereabouts of hints of replies that give it all away between desks where it happened to her where it happened to him.


Leaving so soon?


"Wave after wave from the overpumped," repeated Pasty.


"I heard you," coughed Wafer.


"What was that word you used earlier?  Damn good one," inquired Pasty.


"Harbinger?" offered Wafer.


"No.  Not that one.  I like harbinger but that wasn't it," said Pasty.


"Pestilence," answered Wafer.


"You never used that word," corrected Pasty.


"I know.  I was getting to it eventually," said Wafer.


"Very good.  Wish I could just say what that word was though.  The one you said," bemoaned Pasty.


"Interrupting a long drawn out stomach virus with a brief invocation of a scathing adjective can somehow come up alongside ejaculating into a mostly browned banana peel," said Wafer.


"Not quite the comparison I would readily grab off the charred shelf," said Pasty.


Leaving so soon?


Where it happened to her where it happened to him.


Where it happened mostly to her.


"It was him," said Wafer.


"Him?" asked Pasty.


"It was him down here between us on this heap here him the heap here who must have made the sound," said Wafer.


"You don't say," said Pasty.


"I do.  Him down here between us on this heap here him the heap here.  It looks as if he's moving even or trying to," said Wafer examining the heap and beginning to kneel down to get closer.


"Leaving so soon," said Pasty.


"He's definitely attempting some movement," said Wafer.


"Well, you like that.  That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?" asked Pasty.


"I thought that's what you've always wanted," said Wafer.


"Maybe.  Just not as much as you.  I'm still reflecting on where I stand on that one," said Pasty.


"Still reflecting?" asked Wafer.


"Normally, yes," said Pasty.


"Really?  That's still around?" asked Wafer.


"Of course.  I mean, it could be.  I'm still reflecting on that one as well.  I've added it to my repertoire a spell or so," said Pasty.


"Your repertoire?" asked Wafer.


"Of reflection," said Pasty.


"Perhaps you'd better hurry that up because he's mouthing something like he's saying something," said Wafer.


Leaving so soon.


"It's all right.  Speak up," said Wafer.


"The power's been off," whispered the body on the heap whispered the heap.


"By the looks of you, I'd say, yes, it has been," confirmed Pasty.


"Where I was," said the heap speaking up a bit.


"Where you were?" asked Wafer.


"In a coma, I think.  Must've dropped off behind the wheel of my car," the heap said.


"Where's you car?" asked Pasty.


"In the garage.  Couldn't keep the door shut on that chapter for a final chapter.  When your eyes open again so much nothing can pass by all too suddenly.  Can't tell you.  Can't tell you how many days or weeks it was probably more or less.  Who the fuck knows.  Forget it.  Just go on.  Keep walking.  It's the shape as you walk as you look.  It's the shape of this town.  Could tell when I first got here that the shape was going to let me in and never never let me out.  Just go on.  As you walk as you look or try not to.  Can't help it.  Can't help ignoring the shapes of things."




- Max Stoltenberg

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