Thursday, February 28, 2013

BLOCKS AND CHIPS

Ground to the last day of what ground to the what day will won't will last against the will against last ground the latest ground too late for filling a dented fingernail extending an image a reflection and not a finger not a hand not a life not in the least rumpled against the up and down of between sky and ground the air restricting entrance upon a time upon a day what day will won't will last against the will against last ground the latest ground too late for filling a dented fingernail drawn against draw it back drawn out ground to the last day of what ground to the what day will won't will last against the will against last ground the latest ground too late for emptying a dented fingernail shaking away slowly slowly a little less slowly from next to the nail won't will won't will last against the will against last ground lasting letting letting lasting shaking away slowly slowly a little less slowly from next to the nail won't will won't will last against the will.

Within the block
Chipping away
Within the chips
Blocking off
Lifting an ear to the 
tilted silence
a thumping outside
passing by
getting closer
a thumping outside
getting closer

Head a head lowered just a little lower than the bench smelling of sitting there much too long sitting there had to sit there a bit over over head a head lowered just a little lower than the bench smelling of sitting there much too long sitting there had to sit there a bit over a bit turning a bit to the side eyes brown eyes turn to side and bump against the side of eyes brown eyes turned with a head lowered just a little lower than the bench smelling of sitting there much too long.

He'll make a friend for her lonely and thinking thinking lonely lonely and walking away made for walking away into loneliness he'll make a friend for her lonely and thinking thinking lonely lonely and walking away made for walking away into loneliness pressing her head into his neck choking him he'll make a friend for her lonely and thinking thinking lonely lonely and walking away made for walking away into loneliness next to his loneliness he'll make a friend for her out of what out out of what out of what day what ground to the what day will won't will last against the will against last ground the latest ground too late for filling a dented fingernail extending an image a reflection and not a finger not a hand not a life not in the least.


- Max Stoltenberg

Sunday, February 24, 2013

SOWN INTO THE BODILY FUNCTION PARADIGM

Forced laughs and heartburn chalking it up to a grid of hopscotch washed away by a downpour sniffing each other's cracks in each other's arguments behind each other's backs to the beginning to the beginning to the beginning that can't be found at least not in the least bit concerned they don't seem to be as concerned as they used others until their makeup ends up ending up on their empty pizza boxes thrown away with what they regurgitated until blue in the face red in the eyes brown in the rear and purple in the private interest more invasive with every opening.

Just for openers while waiting to be terminated.

Zipping up under the chin of the flesh puncturing hose stopping for a bite to surf through channels wedging themselves between two places swept out of memory with each breast stroke.  Letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch grown letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch grafted in letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch cut off letting down into the dirt by the trunk its roots pushing and pulling where to walk away where to stumble closer letting down into the dirt cut off branches letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the looking up at the letting down the letting down of holes between branches letting down breaking up the immense hole of the sky into tinier holes letting down broken up into cells each with its corner for letting down the waste of gaps and holes.

Tuberculosis on the other side of the door there is a knocking on the inside of this frame that doesn't match the landscape of thoughts that can't take a hint tuberculosis on the other side of the door there is a knocking on the inside of this frame that doesn't go well with the landscape of thoughts that can't take a hint pounding pounding headache cracked into odd pieces with an incongruent chisel.  Sheets torn open with public confessions and private parts let the cat out of the bag and into the backseat speeding to the arena showing up before the bell rings tuberculosis on the other side of the door there is a knocking on the side of this frame that doesn't match the landscape of thoughts.

Coined terms have spilled out and roll downhill gathering no use for drinking songs voided onto the discolored sidewalk as coined terms fall off the curb into the gutter.  It was at this juncture at this intrusion upon the last round the last next to last stream of not letting his worm the subordinated underling devote his attention to things diamond and kite-shaped (as well as canine-shaped not so much as in the dog but as in the tooth) and draw hardly an infinitesimal bit of his effort of cognition toward the drenching of his trousers with piss.

"Wet yourself again, sir," said Expectorant looking away as the legs in the soaked pants followed the choreography of a fallen alarm clock messing about the ground pathetically insisting on continuing to collide with the Earth unimpressed with its meteoric and anti-climactic descent.

"Sire," corrected Haphazard managing rather chaotically to reach a position of sitting up on the street corner and in an attempt to look regal or sage-like he placed his hands on his knees and feeling the urine in the material cleared his throat.  

"I apologize Your Magisterial Seepage," answered Expectorant, "my forgetfulness is held in place within my constricted nostrils in the presence of your silent but deadly e."

"Perhaps it would be better for me if I made all your words silent and bathed myself in quiet," Haphazard said.

"I eagerly await your return to the waters of a bath but who am I to hope?  And don't trouble your benevolent self to answer that question.  They are all still here in here," Expectorant said tapping the side of his head and picking at his finger after it had come in contact with his hair.  Continuing he mentioned, "All those hallways and rooms I tried to fill with my anger when others tuned me out all those steps I ascended and descended forcing all the shit I was supposed to give about anything to settle in the bottom of every muscle until the only remaining field of interest left to me was the septic one," said Expectorant.

"Hallways of a thickening darkness due to a lack of windows, a preponderance of windowless walls, or a dying Sun make my stately brainpan itch beneath my fastigium," remarked Haphazard.

"Your fastigium was blown off in a strong dry wind.  Are you sure it's not your scalp eczema?" said Expectorant.

"You retrieved it for me like a penitent mutt," exclaimed Haphazard.

"It was you who in the end placed it back upon your moldering brow when I assisted you in finding the express lane to go fuck yourself," said Expectorant.

"Then where is it now?" asked Haphazard.

"I don't know exactly, but it disappeared into that traffic you threw it into during one of your histrionic and tiresome anecdotes," said Expectorant beginning to see images of cars, trucks, tires, headlights, and something resembling treasure and a mine-shaft cave-in."

"Histrionic and tiresome anecdotes, yes, I was planning on proceeding with one until you opened your disgusting well of a yap.  I ought to wire it shut.  There's enough barbed wire about.  Of course, I would command you to do it yourself.  Ah, traffic.  It used to line up in my honor for miles.  I would wave to them and their faces registered a hearty laughter behind glass windshields increasingly obscured ever so a testimony to the changing variety of what would tend to fall from the sky.  The only occasions I could see faces was when they opened up so they could toss their gifts to me.  Their humble intentions was only marred by their poor aim.  My person, I suppose, was willing to be a banquet table for their recently purchased groceries since my halls were blanketed in the fogs of my many campaigns.  Hallways of thickening dark was where I began," said Haphazard.

"Until I interrupted you with a question my leech," interrupted Expectorant.

"Not a question you fool.  'Twas a limerick or other and you still need to work on your articulation," said Haphazard wringing the cuff of his left trouser leg to squeeze out some excess piss only to discover that he succeeded in cracking off some crust of some kind.  Haphazard kicked at Expectorant and said, "Now get on with it."

"Get on with what?" asked Expectorant.

"Get on with your limerick you mucus membrane," spluttered Haphazard.

"I'd rather you just try to start again and I can keep interrupting you my leash," said Expectorant.

"Come on you essence of what's underneath the refrigerator, I'll even feed you some of my own lines I've been working on since your production malfunctions have only become worse of late," said Haphazard.

"Don't let your criticism be biased by my most recent stretchers," insisted Expectorant.

"They never made it quite above a couple of notches below utter failure," said Haphazard.

"I was suffering from strokes on each occasion, O Hollow One," said Expectorant.

"And yet here you are still at my beckon call to receive my words as my own generosity to aid you in your time of waning adeptness at limerick-making. Now do try to summon what flickering spark remains within you to pay some feeble attention as I feed you the lines," announced Haphazard.


"The only lines you feed me are your insufferable sentences and the strings of snot from your nostrils," muttered Expectorant.

Haphazard recited the following,

"There once was a king on the lam
No one denied that he was a sham
The winds blew him this way
And the winds blew him that way
And all he could blow was a ram."

"And this is an excerpt from your upcoming oral memoir?" inquired Expectorant.

"No, someone else's.  A fair lady spoke it to me when I happened upon her in a forest," said Haphazard.

"I know you're old and decrepit, but certainly not old enough for forests.  Are you sure you didn't pull this out of one of your nightmares or demented states when stumbling into a patch of weeds?" asked Expectorant.

"Your attention deficit is legend.  Perhaps I overestimated your threshold for side quests," said Haphazard.

"My day is made out of side quests," said Expectorant.

"That's because you waste so much time with your commentary instead of just taking my words as they are," said Haphazard.

"You would rather I focus on what gunk is spit from your mouth than all the things you have broken?" said Expectorant.

"You don't appreciate how hard it is to find things to break," said Haphazard, "parts need to be made smaller.  Threatening lumps of sugar and asteroids need to be chunked down.  Don't want any cataclysms scaring you half to death."

Expectorant replied, "Why stop at half to death?  Oh, that's right, you have to live longer in order to have regrets."

"Want to know what else the fair lady said to me?" asked Haphazard.

"When would you have had any contact with anyone else?" Expectorant asked.

"I wander off when you are not aware of it," said Haphazard, "she spoke of her last love affair and the shapes she would imagine in the smoke of his pipe and then entertain him with stories of animals piloting spaceships fueled by their recycled bodily discharges as they searched for another planet to colonize in the far back section of their galaxy that they have been told by their latest chatter show guests is inhabited by those who walk around with their hands in their pockets a species consisting entirely of non-functioning males.  To smoke a pipe like I once did and watch the smoke wrap its way through the top of a hedge.  I could tuck myself in a corner of a hedge and envy the smoke that would fade away."

"I wish you would wander off for real.  Women will be better off the less contact they have with us.  Until then I am condemned to a universe doomed to run parallel to oblivion and never meet it none too soon," said Expectorant.

"Don't be impertinent.  Nothing is stopping you from following me," said Haphazard.

"It must be where I started off.  I began with wonder and then I remember every once in a long while to do it again and it only seems to stir up a sense of wondering when I'll be sick and tired enough to stop accepting your promises of us eventually finding a better place," said Expectorant.

"Would you like to see me levitate?" asked Haphazard.

"You mean stand up?" clarified Expectorant.

"What is the purpose behind your name?" inquired Haphazard.

"You mean besides loosening a congestive build-up?" asked Expectorant.

"No, what device does it serve for those who who ..." asked Haphazard.

"For those who what?" asked Expectorant.

"For those for those who might encounter our words?" asked Haphazard.

"Encounter our words?  Unhinged is what we are unhinged since we encountered that so-called invisible point in our lives you and me you and me both.  We sat at a desk in a row of boxes and that was when they documented.  After we were asked to leave that was when the documenting stopped once we became unhinged," said Expectorant.

"So, you don't think we'll ever be remembered or we're even being watched?" asked Haphazard.

Expectorant replied, "Only if you drop dead before me.  Although I dream of it being the other way around."

"Why don't you think we're being observed?" asked Haphazard.

"Observed?  Are you kidding?  Don't you see the blinds being drawn shut in the windows that aren't covered up yet?  And most of the homes still standing have the telltale signs of boards and the barbed wire.  Observed.  Gave up my observing long ago when growing up and it was every night at dinner observed my mother rocking from side to side in her chair at the table.  The oldest chair she said was passed down to her from her great-great-grandmother and I always thought she was comforting herself in it.  Until one night when the power went out and in the dark I bumped into the chair and sat in it.  It seemed to swing my entire body as if out over the edge of some primordial chasm.  I tried to escape its instability and ended up smashing into the dining room wall.  With the ruckus I caused one would have thought someone in the dark would have voiced some concern, but their voices remained silent until they started cursing at each other in their growing frustration at not being able to find any flashlights with working batteries.  And I returned to it," said Expectorant.

"Returned to what?" asked Haphazard.

"Returned to the chair.  I returned to it because it was the light.  I knew the light was going to come back on at any moment and I needed to get used to sitting on that chair in the darkness even though it felt like it was about to give way I was just going to have to get used to it," said Expectorant.

"Be honest with me, am I turning into a zombie?" asked Haphazard.

"A zombie?" asked Expectorant.

"I am a creature of habit you must concede that," said Haphazard.

"If you put it in that fashion . . ." wavered Expectorant.

"Well?  Am I zombie or not?" asked Haphazard in his demanding tone.

"You might find the monotonous rhythm of your mechanical walking through the stench of washes and abandoned towns and yet another expanse of wasteland hard to snap out of but all you have to do is turn around and find me there right behind with the same mechanical walking.  I don't know.  Why are you asking me?  I think the actual zombies are in the houses untouched watching the colored lights flashing inside that can be seen through their windows until they draw the blinds shut," said Expectorant.

"And that's the extent of your explanation for why you still think we are not being observed?" asked Haphazard.

"You talk as if we're in some kind of medium," said Expectorant.

"Aren't we?  When I think I might be turning into a zombie I feel not quite myself and unreal as though in a medium of some kind as you say unhinged by someone else for someone else," said Haphazard.

"The medium we find ourselves in is a solution of air.  It's supposed to be good for our brains, but by the time we've managed bailing out the last bucket of air from our lungs the maggot of life has eaten deep enough into the center of our skulls to send us going around in circles wrapping our yarns around one of the few testicles to seed in the cosmos," said Expectorant.

"Very good.  Now find yourself a pile of filth to bed in for the night and I will call for you at dawn, jester," said Haphazard.

Expectorant asked, "And what would you like me to begin your tomorrow with my sovereign rash?"

Haphazard replied, "The zombie who thought he was a king."

"Never heard of it," said Expectorant, "but I'm sure I'll be able to go from there."

Haphazard yawned, "I'm sure you will."

Just for openers while waiting to be terminated.

Zipping up under the chin of the flesh puncturing hose stopping for a bite to surf through channels wedging themselves between two places swept out of memory with each breast stroke.  Letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch grown letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch grafted in letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the branch another branch cut off letting down into the dirt by the trunk its roots pushing and pulling where to walk away where to stumble closer letting down into the dirt cut off branches letting down another tip here's another tip letting down another tip here's another tip for another sap letting down somewhere in the looking up at the letting down the letting down of holes between branches letting down breaking up the immense hole of the sky into tinier holes letting down broken up into cells each with its corner for letting down the waste of gaps and holes.


- Max Stoltenberg



Tuesday, February 5, 2013

EMBALMING FLUID

The jacket had fallen down between the two chairs and the cloth that had become too greasy for cleaning eyeglasses was caught between the folds as waves of the ocean smashing into each other sinking more of an island being repossessed by the sea of a brain sticking to the envelope gum incapable of making it past the flap.  Jogged one's forgetfulness the blank at the beginnings and ends of run-ins the exchange if you will and you won't.  Nests are for expressions bracketed inside brackets bracketed within chewed off fingernails curving like a plastic dagger into the gum incapable of making it past the flap.  

That was what was that that is that was what was that that was what they what they had they had they had been talking had been talking about during another one of their what had been called by them or by other people.

make it both when it's hard to tell
make it neither when it's hard to tell

Clicking he was clicking on he was clicking out he was clicking out of the corner of his mouth a mechanical accent grounded in teeth flossed using only a held breath even though they kept on with the reminders to take it in and lay there while the reminders and the rubber mask is lowered to the sound of taking it in coming up the back of the throat into the front of the mind chewing on a condemning voice starting with the tissue wall making a hole in the cheek digging in towards that voice the voice swimming deeper between the grooves deeper deeper between the grooves between the two chairs the jacket had fallen down between the two chairs and the cloth that had become too greasy for cleaning eyeglasses was caught between the folds as waves of the ocean smashing into each other sinking more of an island being repossessed by the sea of a brain sticking to the envelope gum incapable of making it past the flap.  Jogged one's forgetfulness the blank at the beginnings and ends of run-ins the exchange if you will and you won't.  Nests are for expressions bracketed inside brackets bracketed within chewed off fingernails curving like a plastic dagger into the gum incapable of making it past the flap.  

"I would have settled."
"I've wanted to know this."
"You've wanted to know what?"
"I thought I did, but that has sailed off."
"Sailed off for whereabouts?"
"Sailed off is not for whereabouts."
"What's happened to your big toenail then?"
"Sailed off is for paper airplanes and bolo testicles."
"Paper boats and bolo balls you mean."
"And severed lily pads."
"What did you do to your big toenail?"
"Which one are you getting at?  They're all swollen."
"The biggest one."
"They're all the biggest one."
"Look there at that one the especially hideous one," she said  without pointing until stumbling over a medium-sized mound before she had a chance to think again of the time she had thought of a comeback and everyone had already left and in hurrying to catch up with them she had stepped into a fresh mess.
"I've lost track of how many times you've sent yourself blundering over that same dung heap."
"It's not a dung heap."
"Dung mound."
"It's a medium-sized mound."
"With some dung on it."
"With some dung on it.  I'll grant you that."
"Why don't you see it coming by now with all the times we've been through it in here?"
"I do see it."
"Then why don't you avoid it?"
"Avoid is for crotches and skulls."
"A weekend with the mother-in-law and my life."
"And an overdue trip to the can."
"Would be nice if we could find a can."
"Would be even better if we could find our way out of here."

A justification
was dropped in conversation
a conversation was dropped
in justification of being
being neutered

"Would be nice if we could find a can."
"Would be even better if we could find our way out of here."
"I told you we should have asked a neighbor for help."
"We did and they got lost in the alley as well."
"Well, where are they then?"
"I don't know.  We lost them."
"Them?  I don't recall there being more than one.  And I don't think you can recall there being more than no one at all."
"You mean you don't remember when we were trying to follow behind along the way we were told would lead us out and the last time I saw the back of their coat they quickly turned that corner and disappeared.  I remember because you were staggering yet again over the dung mound at that point."
"I'm standing next to the berm and there's no corner."
"They must have moved it when we were attacked by that trash bin."
"No one moved it and you were the instigator in all those trash bin fights."
"I was not the instigator in all of the bin battles.  And did you refer to the mound as a dung berm?"
"If I had?"
"You're unable to see the corner due to the fog."
"Have you been told that you are perpetually in one?"
"Me and others have never really been on speaking terms.  I've always had trouble connecting with others, but they certainly haven't had any difficulty connecting with me with my head more specifically for some reason.  I just explain it  as they like to talk with their hands."
"I was forced to see a puppet show against my will."
"I am in a puppet show and was forced to see my will."
"There it is again."
"You're not going to take this rather grim opportunity to mock my will are you?"
"No, there it is again, that dog bark."
"What about it?"
"I could have sworn I heard it before."
"When?"
"When?  That is the question isn't it?"
"Isn't it? is the question."
"Isn't it? is for blisters and snakes digesting antelopes."
"An egg missing the frying pan and puppeteers out of dark clothes."
"Or women comfortable with small breasts."
"There it is again."
"That doesn't sound like a dog bark."
"I believe they occur in clusters of 4."
"You mentioned food."
"My apologies.  You let me get away with your hearing me swallow my own snot the other day."
"The other day falls off of us unnoticed now.  I used to see little thin small flaky bits of it floating in the light that would come in the window when I used to live on the inside side of a window.  Now I can't even see over alley walls to catch a glimpse of the outside side of any.  It was cream."
"Cream?  Did you say cream?"
"It was a cream color.  I thought I could see a two-story home that was a cream color when I heard that dog bark.  It stood out because it looked like it was outside the alley and if we could just get to it we could be on our way."
"Every home has two stories.  Some get away with only having to use one."
"If I had a home again."
"You won't let me mention food so why should you get to talk about home?"
"If I had a home again I would put a giant duck in front of it."
"What are you ranting about?"
"A mallard with the bright green head.  Have you ever seen one of them?  I've only seen a picture of one in a book and that was the female that doesn't even have the glossy green head.  Someone told me about the males having the shimmering green head.  I think it was my uncle who told me."
"Is that the one who died?"
"No they're still alive or were they on life support?"
"You said you had 2 no 5 on life support including your mother-in-law who was missing her bottom half."
"Her better half you dolt."
"You say you saw a picture of a duck in a book.  I've never seen one - duck or book.  I don't think anyone buys any.  I don't see any being given away anymore.  I'd be glad to make it out of this maze of an alley and be able to see a driveway again.  Then I could show you all the books no one gives away."
"If I had a home again I'd put a duck on it a mallard that was a hundred feet tall just so I could tell people how to get to my house.  I could say, just look for the house with the hundred foot tall mallard in front of it."
"That doesn't sound like a dog bark.  You ever realize how much a yawn sounds like someone crying?"
"It was her bottom half that was missing.  She was run over by a bus."
"Unsupportive boss?"
"Actually I don't have a mother-in-law.  I've never been married."
"Were we paired up by a mutual friend or enemy?  Or have we never actually met?"
"We've never actually met.  Never got around to the introductions thing."
"What's the point right?  I don't think we've ever been outside this alley.  Just dreamed it or something."
"I used to complain about being moved into the wrong bracket now I think it's just an erroneous parentheses."
"You want an over-sized symbol on a front lawn you can't water of a house you can't get to just so you can be found."
"Never got around to the introductions."

The jacket had fallen down between the two chairs and the cloth that had become too greasy for cleaning eyeglasses was caught between the folds as waves of the ocean smashing into each other sinking more of an island being repossessed by the sea of a brain sticking to the envelope gum incapable of making it past the flap.  Jogged one's forgetfulness the blank at the beginnings and ends of run-ins the exchange if you will and you won't.  Nests are for expressions bracketed inside brackets bracketed within chewed off fingernails curving like a plastic dagger into the gum incapable of making it past the flap. 


- Max Stoltenberg