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Unnurtured unrecognized
Spaghetti on the tree
with damaged gifts underneath
floating boats in circles
maelstroms of habit
nerdy requests swatted away
elevator never comes
prematurely closing for the night
the day's illnesses wrapped
in leftover present paper
the present usually gets papered over and
sent to the lavatory
without a roll
so many parts to play
juggled along with melons
and bowling shoes
forgot to spray those
that bug that knocked
at the door the other door
had to have been just shy
of 4 feet tall
broke the lock
twisting it so hard
both sides
not going anywhere
- Max Stoltenberg
Listening to the sound of the air conditioner kicking on and off so frequently a part had probably failed within it just like some part had failed within the head that was listening were the senses deceiving themselves no they were usually very reliable it was just everything else. A fondness for cliffs that shrank into garbage heaps imagining a looking over the great landfill the Earth made holes in it and then tried to fill them back up and smooth them over so no one will notice until the inevitable collapse just like the head that was listening to the air conditioner fancy that conditioning the air with all that mucus flying out in the middle of a conversation plugging up ears as if underwater in the air conditioned so well so frequently sitting up in bed stretching to loosen the muscles used less to lift the chin and remind it of the longest act of drowning.
"We'll clean that up later."
"I think they are going to notice."
"Maybe or we can rely on them becoming too desensitized."
"That's the problem we're relying too much on that."
"And not ourselves is what you're zeroing in on."
"I was going to say that the only thing we can rely on about ourselves is that we're unreliable."
"It's more a matter of threat level."
"They don't bother with updates anymore. When was the last time you recall them updating us on threat levels? We just go by how much of the building is left," said Percy.
"I never knew that."
"That all the even numbered floors are gone?"
"No, that your name was Percy."
"It's not. Someone's just fucking around."
"I could do with a bit more of that. It's been years."
"You don't know what those are anymore."
"You want me to say it's been months?"
"More like years."
"See."
"But, you don't know what they are anymore."
"I don't?"
"How many days in a year?"
"I could tell you more accurately in weeks."
"I want to know in days and you don't know is the truth of it."
"For me the days fit into the weeks, but after that it's weeks and months jostling into each other trying to squeeze their corpulent asses through the doors to ride those oncoming years barrelling down the tunnel."
"I think the part of your mind that produces your metaphors has received the most blunt trauma of late."
"Of late."
"We'll clean that up later."
"Until they remind us."
"Again."
"With their threats."
"Yes, with their threats."
- Max Stoltenberg
