Damn damn what damn the water that doesn't seem to does not put out the burning get the algae that's not it get the cinnamon don't know why cinnamon is there not there pretending to juggle between empty palms these flaccid palms of the desert the desert and its space not even a space filled in by the crust of absence blown in there from the direction of that part of the world that never catches up this residence if you can call it that and the crust of absence couldn't care less to call it anything now that there's a there is a there is a space not even a space now despise now and as for the future not that again past present and future the triplets from the fertility drugs of time's brass knuckled instruments filled with old spit.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? I can see. I am still part of this thing, you know."
"You mention those as if they're actually positive attributes."
"I know. I've been slipping more lately taking a soak in the vat of optimism."
"Where is this vat?"
"4th floor I think."
"You think?"
"No, it's on the 4th floor."
"You're sure about that?"
"Not really."
"I knew it. You can't remember."
"I haven't been there in a while, but the damn stuff takes a long time to wear off."
"That's certainly the case and it's your memory."
"You're right. It is my memory and I know this for a fact because of what occurred to me just the other day."
"And what was that?"
"What was what?"
"What was it that occurred to you the other day?"
"Well, I was speaking with the woman from the 6th floor when I went down to the 8th floor for something must have been one of those 4-inch binders we're having to use more recently."
"Recently? We've been using those for over a year. You probably went down to 8 for one of the 5-inch binders. You don't have to go on. This is a good example of itself just by what you mentioned or tried to mention so far."
"There was more."
"I'm sure there was."
"It'll need some shaking out, but if you hang on it might be worth your while."
"I doubt it, you make your memory sound like you're having trouble voiding your bladder."
"I was thinking more along the lines of clearing out a garden hose that hasn't been used in a while."
"They both sound the same to me."
"That's probably due to my having brought them up as ailments at one point or another."
"My memory is not as bad as yours. So if this is some pathetic attempt to prove otherwise you can forget it."
"If you would just let me go on with what I was trying to say you'll see there was more."
"More regarding what?"
"About what I was saying about my trip to 8."
"Yes, 8. Of course. I knew what you were referring to all along. It was my way of testing you to see if your memory was still intact on that one."
"You were testing me?"
"And you just barely managed even though I went easy on you."
"I don't like it when you test me. Don't I answer enough questions, audits, questionnaires, surveys, and all the shit I need to keep myself together just so I can see your fucking face every morning and then you test me?"
"Yes and you just barely passed. Would you like to know by how much?"
"Not really. Not if you're going to do that thing with your fingers pinching them ever so close together."
"Steal my thunder why don't you?"
"Don't worry, there's plenty of surplus of that to go around."
"The answer is still no."
"No to what?"
"You going on."
"But there was more and the shaking out and all that."
"Don't even bother. There's no point. Am I right?"
"Probably."
"Who was the woman from 6?"
"I thought you didn't want me to go on. Is this where we make that inevitable descent into your ex-wife?"
"What did you say?"
"I know. It sounds better when you say it. Insults have always had that quality for me. They always seem to sound better when they come from someone else."
"How many times do I have to explain this to you? It's the inevitable ascent that's the most painful thing about it. That's what comes before the descent to fuck it all up. It couldn't just be you're walking along the Earth and then it opens up and swallows you and has done with it. No, there have to be all these hills and mountains to climb and fall off back into the desert."
"That's what she was saying to me."
"My ex-wife?"
"No, the woman from 6. She was trying to tell me about what happened to her breasts."
"Her breasts? Hardly ever have any interactions with these people on other floors and she has to pop her breasts out to you."
"She didn't pop out her breasts."
"They'd vilify me for whipping out my dick and grousing about structural and performance defects."
"You think anyone in any position is going to commit any time to writing criticism here?"
"Maybe a memo?"
"Those are used for writing bullshit. You know they break us down into little measurable units so they can have their building blocks of data for constructing floors and walls of information to make things look and sound better than they are. That's what she was getting at."
"What who was getting at?"
"The woman from 6. What she was getting at with her breasts. She had so little time to tell someone else like me who had that look in their eyes of wanting to tell someone else about how they are no longer becoming."
"Unhappy with her looks?"
"No longer becoming anyone or anything. She talked about filling and refilling her car so she could get here and keep herself from not going below a certain level."
"A certain level?"
"Where if she gets low enough all she'll feel is the backwash of others. So she fills and refills until all she notices is how her breasts look."
"How do they look?"
"Never mind."
Damn damn what damn the water that doesn't seem to does not put out the burning get the algae that's not it get the cinnamon don't know why cinnamon is there not there pretending to juggle between empty palms these flaccid palms of the desert the desert and its space not even a space filled in by the crust of absence blown in there from the direction of that part of the world that never catches up this residence if you can call it that and the crust of absence couldn't care less to call it anything now that there's a there is a there is a space not even a space now despise now and as for the future not that again past present and future the triplets from the fertility drugs of time's brass knuckled instruments filled with old spit.
- Max Stoltenberg
No comments:
Post a Comment