I can't concentrate on what was I concentrating on something made from concentrate concentrated beam beaming from ear to ear until they split their face across until the top came off or bottom fell out from top to bottom of this life a coming apart a split fissure for then dropping into lost in one's own crevices that meet in a puckered hole of what one never cared for never really cared for the pulp that coagulates in the nostrils chunks of brain wet red roses of histrionic ranting the door won't open and I have stay seated until reaches across the calendar and begins to rip in half and half again and half again as the days continue slowing down into this nothing this corner of a wasteland shaped somewhat like a corner I seem to have stepped out into it I can't concentrate on what was I concentrating on something made from scratch how did that get there must have done that while I slept behind that trash heap or in front of it never cooled down never cared for that for about must have done that while I dreamed of clawing at something or being clawed flashes of sharp talons her fingernails when her hair was short would put these fingers on the back of her neck and move up moved up and that was the last the highest floor it wasn't me who jumped off that was her lot the lot below where she was found by some school children started to move in a way that reminded me of hard to concentrate until bigger people taller people walked up and scooped them up like a detachment of front-loaders.
Get on with it then you bloody lunatic individuals with reassembled shred applications for brains strain your eyes to see through the tears and sweat if every box was filled in until all the shit of your mechanical lives squirting out of your corneas your irises your sunflower seeds as chew and spit sitting at the window with the drawer you lean over to take their forms and misunderstand what they try to explain no one hears much just parts just patches of a dying lawn under the Sun's desert halitosis.
"I am going to I am about to I am going to crush that bug crush it with I am going to crush that bug with looking around for something to crush that bug with a tissue my tissue a tissue a piece of paper cardboard a newspaper a newspaper how about that about to I am going to crush that bug with still looking around for a shoe a sandal a rock the Earth has been ground down into smaller particles remember that crush that bug looks like a tangle of string actually always do this and then leave it tell myself to pick it up and throw it away and tell myself never mind because I would just throw it away and I'd run into again and did anyway whether I picked it up or not."
"You were going to crush something what was it?"
"I don't know."
"No you don't."
"I am without a brain."
"You continue to have a brain and it's very damaged."
"You were there."
"I was where?"
"You were there to see the car the red car with the brain stuck to the treads of the front right tire."
"Red car?"
"That was my brain turning over a new leaf flattened between the pages of another absurd chapter."
"When was the last time I saw a leaf?"
"It was a bug I was going to crush."
"About to crush looking about to find something to crush with have you seen any leaves none have you?"
"Just my senses that I have taken my leave of."
"I should take my leave of you and your senses you have taken your leave of."
"She had some meat on her that's what I liked about her and she could belch like a sludge tanker."
"Then she took her leave of you," said Chum-Guin.
"And her eyes."
"Why don't you take off your shoe and kill the bug with it?"
"I've learned not to take anything else off these days. Took off my shoes to give my swollen ghastly feet some dusty air and that was the last I saw of them. Got these sandals from a corpse. Looked like he used to be athletic. Lot of good that did him exercising in the desert."
"Wasn't always a desert."
"It's a brown ball floating in the waters of space-time. The color is in our eyes her eyes."
"Was in her eyes."
"I used to like watching her sleep."
"Why? Her eyes were closed."
"When her eyes were closed it was like a power outage that disarmed the world."
"So you won't use your sandals even to demolish the bug?"
"Everywhere I moved or wandered I got there just as the construction or demolition was done. Plus anyway sandals wouldn't do for the likes of him. He's a rather large chap like one of those ticks."
"We haven't seen those monsters since we were in the sewer."
"We haven't gotten that far never do. She once said to me."
"Here we go again."
"No the here we go again is the waking up part let's get that straight you fuck-crack the one thing I want to take off and never get back again is this and it doesn't go away and that's why when I took the sandals from that corpse I looked at him ever so briefly and didn't say a word I only thought one as I turned around and never saw him again."
"Until you tripped over another one."
"That's the word I thought to myself."
"What word?"
"Until."
"The word I think to myself the most has to be just."
"Just?"
"It was in all my questions when I thought I had grown up and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. That feeling you don't know what the fuck you're doing and that's why you need someone else to see the stuff you're missing and the only stuff you're missing is the someone else even though they are right there in front of you because they don't want to know you and you don't want to know them and this bathroom of a skull I have the only place I could go to get away from all the fake re-framing of things has been clogged with that word just as if the outside has told the inside: you wanted just you can have it and choke on it! and it's smeared all over the tile of my bathroom mind until it stretches my gut and leaks out of my ass."
"You haven't said a word to me about this word until now."
"Metaphors are like the debris that gets blown around and clings to us."
"I was sharing one of my bitter reflections with her and the topic of destruction was raised. She argued that you can't really destroy things. Her example was food and how it goes from the mouth to the sewer. And she said to me she once said to me: the sewer is a good place for a piece of shit."
"And now she's dead."
"She's been dead. Now we have ticks."
The fragments keep me together us apart from each other together again among the fragments in our midst the bonds so thick with walls holding up the roof the sky the fragments keep me together us apart from each other together again among the fragments in our midst the bonds so thick with walls holding up the roof the sky it's falling again in see-through pieces all together blurring us apart wet with drowning among the fragments keep me together us apart from each other together again among the fragments in our midst the bonds so thick with walls holding up the roof the sky it's falling again in see-through pieces all together blurring us apart wet with drowning among the fragments keep me together us apart blurred by the rain together we blob in the middle of the table on the paper plate.
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