Friday, December 27, 2013

POOR TRANSITIONS

It was in the more arid places that the zits of the world put more distance between their conversations and each other. Ejaculations ceased to issue from their heads and they resigned their form and content to distorting faces and expressions.  Make that contorting feces and regressions make that what you will if that is what you think it comes down to or what it comes down to being the parts the units the components the factors when you used to spend all that time looking in drawers or between things when you ran out of paper walking on muddy road no rain but a leak from somewhere had wandered off in search of the source all that time all that profusion of feeling responsible for things lost through the ticking away of eons where behind another layer of stars and their wardrobes light-years on the same planet away from the more the more what was it it was in the more arid places that the zits of the world put more distance between their conversations and each other. Ejaculations ceased to issue from their heads and they resigned their form and content to distorting faces and expressions.  Make that contorting feces and regressions make that what you will if that is what you think it comes down to or what it comes down to being the parts the units the components the factors when you used to spend all that time looking in drawers or between things when you ran out of paper walking on muddy road no rain but a leak from somewhere had wandered off in search of the source all that wasted giving up sick and tired worn out and wasting acceptance and surrender on searching for the source.

Shooting stars shooting pain
through lips that have said yes
what were what were we thinking
if it can be called
if it can be called 
that

Shooting stars was it
up north or up south
what direction did the barrels go
the targets couldn't disappear
into the crowd
threshed into the wasteland
of hands
clawing at keyboards in the desert 
nails lifted backwards
by hammers of voyeurs
minds that curve back into themselves
splintered handles
forgetting a grip
nails lifted backwards to scrape out the turds of muddy road no rain but a leak from somewhere had wandered off in search of the source all that wasted giving up sick and tired worn out and wasting acceptance and surrender on searching for the source.

the source that makes roads muddy

"Were you able to sleep?"
"Of course not."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You just did."
"After this I mean after I stop saying anything right now nothing more just wait nothing more starting right now and this right now means it."
"Nothing more.  You really are not saying anything.  And unfortunately for you that's saying something.  And now you're going to just stand there and be quiet by imagining you are a bag with holes emptying out into the space that shrinks and grows and shrinks again and grows again until you realize you already are a bag with holes and that's when you look down at the backs of your hands and turn them over and try to look at the wall then you remember you're out in the open under the dusty clouds impaled by hills of remains and that's the point at which you pick up where you left off not saying anything."
"And I was trying to avoid a rant with you being irritable."
"I didn't think I was irritable but now that you bring it up-"
"You were snoring."
"I what?"
"You were snoring.  You must have slept some even if only briefly."
"I guess it's possible.  Did I do anything else?"
"The usual announcements."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And anything else besides the usual announcements?"
"There might have been."
"There might have been?  There either was or there wasn't."
"Well, I didn't say there definitely wasn't."
"That's true.  It's just that thing."
"What thing?"
"This thing of sometimes I wonder if I'm talking to someone else or myself."
"Oh crap, here you go again making it about you.  What am I? Half of this thing this someone else thing?  If if it manages to make it I don't it doesn't sound like I'm this someone else or even at 50%."
"We were never good at numbers."
"Leave me out of your making it all about you and speak for yourself."
"Maybe it is better before I say anything else for me to just walk away and forget what it was I was going to say."
"You make it sound as if the future of dialogue hinges on you staying or leaving."
"Where could I go?"
"There was a time when we would actually surprise the other with something we said wasn't there?"
"There might have been."
"There might have been?  There either was or there wasn't."
"Well, I didn't say there definitely wasn't."
"That's true.  It's just that thing."
"What thing?"
"This thing of sometimes I wonder if I'm talking to someone else or myself."
"Oh crap, here you go again making it about you.  What am I? Half of this thing this someone else thing?  If if it manages to make it I don't it doesn't sound like I'm this someone else or even at 50%."
"We were never good at numbers."
"Leave me out of your making it all about you and speak for yourself."
"Maybe it is better before I say anything else for me to just walk away and forget what it was I was going to say."
"You make it sound as if the future of dialogue hinges on you staying or leaving."
"Where could I go?"
"You were mumbling."
"Where could I go?  Is that better?  Must have been my post-nasal drainage."
"Not just now.  You asked me if there was anything else besides the snoring."
"And the usual announcements."
"You were mumbling something about finding places underground places."
"I don't know if they were underground or not.  All I do know is that when I discovered them I was overcome with being inspired to tell the others tell her and it was within moments that it was replaced by being angry and not just angry about the places turning out to be a dream shoved up the tightest ass of the briefest nodding off or that there is no her or the others to tell but I'm pissed that I let myself get inspired in the first place."

It's definitely fur no it's definitely hair what difference does it make why do you call it that it's definitely accumulating that's what you see it's not that bad building up in the corners quite a bit somewhat call them off or I'll call them to relinquish them to my deceased paths lost all those scrapbooks witnessed too many trash cans falling over and barfing them up all over the floor when there were still those types of surfaces to move upon ignore them as they ram their folded arms into the back of your head side by side is how the lies travel together face them or turn your backs to them precede them follow them what difference does it make why do you call it that it's definitely accumulating that's what you see it's not that bad building up in the corners quite a bit somewhat call them off or I'll call them to relinquish them to my deceased paths.

He was going to help her up over the wall before they surrounded them after she was going to help him over the wall during the performance behind the wall overcoming the reticence to stay in the dark and pass through rooms surrounded with them talking to each other the costume made a pass at the uninterested after she had had enough of going going to help him over the wall during the performance highlighted by congestion highlighted by snoring twisting the volume on a bottlecap crusted with dog shit the volume of growling yawns increasing into insomnia.

"Better it was only snoring."
"Only snoring?  You wanted to know if there was anything besides that."
"No I didn't."
"You're going to deny it now?"
"Denial.  Yes, it's all the ammunition I have left to load into a mind that keeps drawing blanks."
"I was right here.  I heard you make the request for more."
"Stop trying to make a shit stain out of a void."
"I will not have you denigrating this."
"This?  What is this?  You won't even say what this is.  You won't even say interaction.  You were probably about to say it and decided instead to try to replace it with a belch and thought there was some vomit on its way but there is nothing on its way."
"Then you say it since you know what's going on inside me."
"Say it?  I'll say it and I don't know what's going on inside you nor do I care.  I only know what's been clinging to me.  This this interaction has been nothing more than when I notice my filthy shirt sticking to me and I untuck it out of my pants not even to shake it out or to feel the air that might be allowed inside because it burns anyway but because I don't want it fucking touching me."
"Mumblings or not tell me anyway."
"What mumblings?"
"You can deny it all you want but tell me a story."
"Stories have been the carcinogens nobody ever told me to quit they just keep handing them down can't do anything about the arrangements of our cells."
"I'm not saying anything."

Feeling responsible for things lost through the ticking away of eons where behind another layer of stars and their wardrobes light-years on the same planet away from the more the more what was it it was in the more arid places that the zits of the world put more distance between their conversations and each other. Ejaculations ceased to issue from their heads and they resigned their form and content to distorting faces and expressions.  Make that contorting feces and regressions make that what you will if that is what you think it comes down to or what it comes down to being the parts the units the components the factors when you used to spend all that time looking in drawers or between things when you ran out of paper walking on muddy road no rain but a leak from somewhere had wandered off in search of the source all that wasted giving up sick and tired worn out and wasting acceptance and surrender on searching for the source.


- Max Stoltenberg

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