"She went to his apartment," said the man in the orange shirt.
"And then what happened?" asked the man in the brown pants.
"She came back with a book," said the man in the orange pants.
"She was a reader," stated the man in the brown shirt.
"You are a highly perceptive one," remarked the man in the orange shoes.
"That's it for today," commented the man in the brown shoes.
"What's what for today?" asked the man in the orange shirt.
"I'm terminating this session," declared the man in the brown pants.
"You'll come back around to this," muttered the man in the orange pants.
"The gravitational pull is ferocious," coughed the man in the brown shirt.
"You can't escape me," bragged the man in the orange shoes.
"You were more genuine when you spoke on behalf of a this," snarked the man in the brown shoes.
"It's my blood that's keeping these walls standing," mentioned the man in the orange shirt.
"It's these walls that are keeping you sitting at your desk," belched the man in the brown shirt.
"You were more genuine when you spoke on behalf of a that," half-barked the man in the orange pants.
"I almost took one of my darker thoughts and said something, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings," said the man in the brown pants.
"What feelings? I don't have any feelings left," grunted the man in the orange shoes trying to sound mechanical but not too much like a cartoonish robot.
"Enough to manage half a bark," commented the man in the brown shoes.
"Was that what that was? I've never been management material no matter how badly they need a cadaver that's been dumped out in the desert to reheat," belched the man in the orange shirt.
"If you're going to construct an argument by appealing to a total lack of popularity then I'll leave you to your funeral arrangements," farted the man in the brown shirt.
"You're just saying that because you have a bug growing inside your dick," retched the man in the orange pants.
"The one that crawled out from between your mother's legs," hissed the man in the brown pants.
"You know this reminds me of a meal that I shit out almost immediately," quipped the man in the failed organ lounge.
"Which brings us back to dirty laundry," uttered the man in the lower definition corner.
"I'll send it out first thing tomorrow morning and it'll be back right after lunch," crunched the man in the bottleneck sticking out its necrophilia.
"Our dirty laundry you know the kind we wear on the outside of our uniforms. I was speaking what is that called?" wondered the man in the back of the cockroach display sprinkled with irrelevance and the facetious.
"I thought I returned mine," questioned the man in the room for questioning the man who was questioning him better than he ever questioned himself.
"Idiomatically. They wanted the original birth certificates mailed and they never sent them back and everybody still had expiration dates and theirs had to come up so quick and hers and mine the one with the soonest hasn't come up it hasn't been brought up no one no one brings it up," shushed the man the keyless key chain unworthy thermometer he shrinks down into between his pauses not saying much these days.
"No we traded them in for these wafer crumbed vestments we brush ever so earnestly after being dropped off outside trying to remove or slather on another layer for the carpool the metal can rolling through the desert the hourglass that never empties that can never be turned on its head," croaked the mass of blood born pathogens rendering ineffective the curtains for parting only merging and concealing.
She pointed to the footprints by the copier and set it up like this: "He said to her that it was her fault it wasn't time yet for their daughter not being ready yet to tell them spell it out for them that they left out a verse not the one about being passed over but the one where she does get included and that's when things went wrong and she turned to him and reminded him that it was he who had not allowed her to include that verse."
He nodded towards the gap in the cabinets between the top drawer and the bottom drawer and set it up like this: "She said to him as they walked back from the admin wing that she thought he had overplayed his hand in recommending her and everyone who had left with her slipping out cold back doors to return to their hot seats and he unperturbed mentioned that he had noticed her facial gestures standing in the doorway nods of agreement to everything he had said with his mouth on the front of his head he squeezed between his fists in the darkness later on reaching for nothing.
She lifted her chin at the camera above the door and set it down like this:
Notorious stairs folded into squelched annoyance
Depending on your choice of sabotage
Self-sabotage in the limelight
with a dash of separation
several pinches in the back of the shield
fallen over with disillusionment
and the grammar of caution
hesitant truth waiting outside
until they are finished scheming
and the silence that follows
polluted with their bleeding annotations
of tall short fat bony
waiting outside
Notorious stairs folded into squelched annoyance
Depending on your choice of sabotage
fallen over hesitant
until they are finished
that follows with a dash
and the grammar of caution
chapping lips on explanations
whiteboards scraped
with shriveled grass
stiff and frozen by the hot sky
- Max Stoltenberg
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