CAUGHT ON THE DESERT SILL

I am at a loss I don't know what to say I know exactly what to say and that is my downfall again the problem is that my downfall never takes me down far enough where I can't get back up stay down paint yourself a shade of the weeds and stand among them the weeds. Crazy going crazy crazy not going anywhere crazy going in circles crazy going in squares rectangles long thin rectangles hallways corridors of crazy couldn't sit there with him across the desk from him looking at me running out of things to draw to my attention his attention running out of things to draw my attention to his attention had to put them together you might have heard of them put them together things together and they lead right into a hole red with brown shitty smiles of forced entry the door and they don't fucking like the look you give them all day long as they pass by your door waving themselves around like the weeds they are poking their crass existence out of the ground why get back up why stay down to paint yourself a shade of the weeds and stand among them squat among them running out of things to draw my attention to his attention had to put them together you might have heard of them put them together things together and they lead right into a hole red with brown shitty smiles of forced entry the door and they don't fucking like the look you give them

as the stream pauses
in the desert of blank steps
leading up down to empty
expectations is it
was it is it hide and
don't look at her while
while she all the while
that's not right
it doesn't end right
it doesn't end
clicked on the wrong space
as the stream pauses 
in the desert of blank steps
leading up down to empty 
expectations is it
was it is it hide and
don't
just don't
a princess
where did that come from?
where did she come from?
she the that that came in
from 
where?

"I never discovered much," said the ex-girlfriend.
"How could you?" said the ex-salesman.
"How could I? I never discovered much looking away."
"I used to be a salesman until I took a hockey puck to the brain permanently damaged my sense of deception tragic end to a profitable ruse."
"When were you ever near anything frozen?"
"Before the desert everything was frozen and after the desert I'm the one who is frozen in my tracks."
"I prostrate like a sloth at the narthex of your bunions."
"In suicide I got an incomplete."
"My eyes hurt again the back of my eyes maybe all of my head except my eyes hurt up to where my eyes start in the back up to the pupils this same shit every day crawls in through the windows and tumbles into my mind and just stays and never leaves even if I burned it down the charred shit would still be there melted into the foundation and the fucking Earth takes its nauseous time chewing and swallowing."
"Turn and face the wall."
"Only if you have an actual weapon this time and I have a nasty mess on the wall I can look at before you pull the trigger."
"Trigger? Did you say trigger?"
"You didn't find something with a trigger did you?"
"Well, no."
"Figures, unless you have a blunt instrument."
"I haven't been very in favor of using a blunt instrument."
"Why not?"
"I'd have to hit you several times with my lousy upper body business and all that. I'd just be repeating myself and I might get you pissed off enough who knows what I could become next."
"You think I'd risk smashing your asshat and have you be a slimy salesman again?"
"That's a myth you know."
"Your whole life has been a myth."
"No I mean a blow to the head would make me go back to what I used to be."
"I know what you mean it was an expression I was using and the top of your head is your ass."
"That would explain why I've been trying for years to take a strong enough shit and empty out everything between my ears."

Noiseless the swamp
of rubbing my face to get the debris
from these dreams in the stinging daylight
off the sill of these eyes
putting the boxes away
until their contents go bad
tense bravado stains the mask
lifting up the garage door
delivered by hand 
to the roof of her mouth
she rolls her vision up into her head
as a man leaves deep knife marks
in her no-stick bowl
the color is divided
more contents to go bad

noiseless the swamp


- Max Stoltenberg