Wednesday, June 29, 2016

FROM HER TO PEDALS

The dryer is vibrating into the ceiling making the sides of the jaw ache abnormal imbalanced unnoticed discrepancies scratching the insides of your stomach like a basketball of a sticky note drenched in bloody cheese curds adhering to the bottom of your brain forget about clearing your throat or anything else to catch your breath when everything else catches in your in-betweens. Came upon this and shame dries the offshoots your wasted existence hands left and right stretched out and making fists one open one closed one smacking into the other doesn't matter which why should it? and there continues or ends or begins the next spill the next sticky spill to clean up with a tissue or toilet paper looking at a menu if that is what it is going back over it the dream after all these decades and seeing the coloring book nothing has been touched by a crayon as of yet the diseased outlines faded copied stuck together pages pulled apart and letters words are missing and you look up at the mirror in the hotel room was it is that how was it how looking up at the mirror or right into it and seeing yourself missing like the words in the coloring book laying on the bed and mother is over in the corner what did she do because that is where your reflection ended up.

It is cloudy today and the heat still violates the holes that land nowhere but on your person who showed up late forgot again a rough couple of days sticky spills you know and worms slithering out of your thoughts about the air and how filled with disregard it is how that is how it is.

Permanent links to loosening knots tangles leaving out of disinterest or a brain just going bad in the box for too long forgotten it had been pushed further and further to the back of the box. Index finger about to tap a shoulder and wasn't sure if my mouth was covered when she turned around and looked like she had noticed me not for me mind you just in case I was talking to myself and I was how that is how it was with me just didn't know if she caught me talking with myself is that who I was speaking with this time this space of a few or several certainly several minutes vaccinated against anything novel or shorter than that and that how that is how it is.

Napkin dispensers litter the landscape if that is how they refer to it as a landscape a desert landscape scraped together or apart apart more like nothing to like about it a desert is a planet with shitloads of miles of mastectomies all quilted together accented with mountainous scars and she she had to do all the changing after performing and trying so hard not to smash the camera into a million pieces and grind them into his eyes of vileness is that how what is that what it takes to shut up the silence leaking into your head pressed up next to the rest of the void of the universe.

And she picked up the lollipop from the ground and looked at the ant that was barely moving stuck to the cracked candy tiny insect body bent as it was how as it was overhearing the older girls and the dresses and the purses and the lips dry with irritation sighing the is what it is knowing or pretending not to know how much the is is made of what it isn't. Douche-bags not far around the corner lurking in the light the stage light evaporating the latest question precipitating in a puff of complacency staring at the empty mirror hesitant to peek in the corner where is that where mother what did she do because that is where your reflection ended up. 


- Max Stoltenberg

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