What's needling the situation is broken inside and lurking about under the skin. Running out the front door and down the stairs making it to the last step to step out onto the path running out the front door and down the stairs making it to the last step out onto the path running out the front door and down the stairs making it almost to the last step and stepping over the last step as the darkness opens and stretches along with the extending foot extending and extending the darkness the chasm the dark chasm extending beyond the reach of the foot the thought drops thought drops out of the bottom of the feet out of the bottom of the rectum out of the bottom of the stomach out of the bottom of the throat out of the bottom of the voice out of the bottom of the head leaving the top clinging to the last step. So much for avoiding the last step this time.
The next injection has been ready overdue overdue cannot put it off as the split needle ruptures one vessel after another within. Nothing is contained that once circulated. All that is contained is what spills and spreads about from the split needle ripping apart as it goes. The next injection has been self-administered as the hemorrhage makes another point. Belabored to say the least. Is that an organ moving about unattached within? Ingested something extra something saturated with something once liquid now shavings of needles in a cushion breathing in and out the next injection working its way throughout under the skin.
What was once witnessed from the outside is only experienced from the inside trapped within this punctured flesh. Feet pounding the steps and paths of stairs and doorways leading out onto dark chasms is thread back together with the next injection with a split needle mended by logic's addiction to impatience and hastily connected circuits looping into unremitting pursuit of a way out from under the ceiling of this punctured and sewn together flesh draping down in front of eyes filling with blood and thoughts swimming in contents opaque with decomposition. Within these walls within these cells ruptured and closing in upon themselves needles fractured and coiled into wire wrapped on both sides of the fleshy border that expands and emaciates with inflammation and decay sewn back together by the threads these threads that carry the all too comprehensible themes that loop under over and under the skin leaving more holes and refilling and repuncturing with metal both cold and hot and cold stinging numbing nodes collapsing with its weight unable to crawl out from under the pressure of the next injection of being being injected from above and below and without and within.
- Max Stoltenberg
Monday, October 31, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
OUTAGE
Cut off shut off. Leave off. Leave it off. Arms hands out under can't find a comfortable position to doze off cut off shut off leave off leave it off. Arms hands out under can't find a comfortable position to doze off circulation cut off shut off backed up stuffed up nose up hands up. Hands up.
Written off written out left out stand out stand up sit down kneel down hands up. Hands up. Follow the signs. No signs. Where to turn? Tired of turning. This is the loop. This is the loop. Hold the turn until flying off. Fly off. Cut off. Shut off. Leave off. Leave it off. Arms hands out under can't find a comfortable position to doze off cut off shut off leave off leave it off. Clear off. Clearing off. No clearing. Nothing clear. Clear as shit. Clear as bullshit. Arms out hands out hands up. Hands up. Eyes down. Looking down or looking up?
As a boy or as a man looking down no it was looking up at the sky at night a night sky the night sky it was like something not like something it was not like looking up at the night sky it was more it was less it was like holding one's face over the sink filled with something very dark and very silent and it was so close to the face that was learning to be filled in darkened in with more silence more reflection of this dark something unlike so unlike itself so like something else so this so damn this.
She: Was that your foot?
He: My arm.
She: What is your arm doing down there?
He: I dropped something.
She: Good luck trying to find it.
He: Never mind.
She: What was it?
He: Never mind.
She: I want to know what it was.
He: And I said never mind.
She: Was it your watch? That thing just won't stay on your wrist. It's as if you are shrinking and time just gets away from you. Is this just another one of your themes you're attempting to clandestinely let slip away into another brief preview of oblivion.
He: Not even close. We can still hear each other. At least as far as we usually manage a semblance of connection. Two people only seem to convince themselves of being connected when they offer yet another one of their assumptions about the other or the dim kicking of the foot against the pathetically searching limb.
She: Still think it was your watch.
He: You keep thinking that while I give up on something else. Trudging on to yet another story of the box of fractured light bulbs, you know the one?
She: Is this more electrical humor?
He: No. That was the story about the two electricians vacationing in a geothermal pool I told you about a couple of weeks ago.
She: More like a couple of months ago.
He: A couple of months?
She: You and time.
He: You and money.
She: You and social interaction.
He: You and operating any type of electronic devices.
She: You and me.
He: Sorry. Run that one by me again.
She: You and me.
He: No. Must be the absence of light.
She: The absence of light? It's only been pitch black in here for who knows how long?
He: Where in here? I thought we made it outside. You mean to tell me you think we're still in the house?
She: Well, why not?
He: Why not? What room do you think we've been in? I can't even ask you what it looks like or feels like or smells like? There isn't any of that just the fucking next thing we lose that's all.
She: Give me your arm.
He: No.
She: You know why you won't let me touch your arm.
He: Yes, I don't want you to reach out and poke me in the eye.
She: What's the difference? You won't need it in the dark now.
He: I'd like to at least hold on to the idea of being able to see even if everything is going to be dark indefinitely.
She: That doesn't fit in with your gradual descent into oblivion.
He: It's the principle of the thing. Plus oblivion doesn't work that way at least I don't think so.
She: You think you've successfully gotten me to forget about wanting to feel your arm.
He: It's too dark for terms like success now.
She: Just give me your arm.
He: I could be giving you the wrong one and you couldn't tell the difference.
She: I'd just ask again for the other one.
He: I could give you the same one twice or however many times we carry on this thing that we're carrying on.
She: You don't want me to notice that your watch is missing.
He: What room have you been imagining we've been in all this time?
She: If we've been outside where has the Sun been all this time?
He: I think we've been knocked off course and we've been drifting in some dark part of the universe.
She: I remember watching my father play on his classic billiard table. You know the ones with the pockets with the netting. I loved that table. I would watch him plan his shots and see the balls go where he wanted them to go. In the beginning he let me retrieve the billiard balls for him. When I made mistakes and dropped a ball or two after a while he would tell me to leave them alone. "Keep your little dirty hands off the precious cargo, my dear," he'd say. So I'd stand there quietly trying not to make a sound or a move and I stopped looking at him and the thinking and his fucking plan and after even more time I got tired of the smacking sound. The more I ignored it the louder the smacking got. The only time it would decrease in volume was when I put my attention on the pockets and just look at the balls hanging stuck in the nets. Just hanging stuck.
- Max Stoltenberg
Written off written out left out stand out stand up sit down kneel down hands up. Hands up. Follow the signs. No signs. Where to turn? Tired of turning. This is the loop. This is the loop. Hold the turn until flying off. Fly off. Cut off. Shut off. Leave off. Leave it off. Arms hands out under can't find a comfortable position to doze off cut off shut off leave off leave it off. Clear off. Clearing off. No clearing. Nothing clear. Clear as shit. Clear as bullshit. Arms out hands out hands up. Hands up. Eyes down. Looking down or looking up?
As a boy or as a man looking down no it was looking up at the sky at night a night sky the night sky it was like something not like something it was not like looking up at the night sky it was more it was less it was like holding one's face over the sink filled with something very dark and very silent and it was so close to the face that was learning to be filled in darkened in with more silence more reflection of this dark something unlike so unlike itself so like something else so this so damn this.
She: Was that your foot?
He: My arm.
She: What is your arm doing down there?
He: I dropped something.
She: Good luck trying to find it.
He: Never mind.
She: What was it?
He: Never mind.
She: I want to know what it was.
He: And I said never mind.
She: Was it your watch? That thing just won't stay on your wrist. It's as if you are shrinking and time just gets away from you. Is this just another one of your themes you're attempting to clandestinely let slip away into another brief preview of oblivion.
He: Not even close. We can still hear each other. At least as far as we usually manage a semblance of connection. Two people only seem to convince themselves of being connected when they offer yet another one of their assumptions about the other or the dim kicking of the foot against the pathetically searching limb.
She: Still think it was your watch.
He: You keep thinking that while I give up on something else. Trudging on to yet another story of the box of fractured light bulbs, you know the one?
She: Is this more electrical humor?
He: No. That was the story about the two electricians vacationing in a geothermal pool I told you about a couple of weeks ago.
She: More like a couple of months ago.
He: A couple of months?
She: You and time.
He: You and money.
She: You and social interaction.
He: You and operating any type of electronic devices.
She: You and me.
He: Sorry. Run that one by me again.
She: You and me.
He: No. Must be the absence of light.
She: The absence of light? It's only been pitch black in here for who knows how long?
He: Where in here? I thought we made it outside. You mean to tell me you think we're still in the house?
She: Well, why not?
He: Why not? What room do you think we've been in? I can't even ask you what it looks like or feels like or smells like? There isn't any of that just the fucking next thing we lose that's all.
She: Give me your arm.
He: No.
She: You know why you won't let me touch your arm.
He: Yes, I don't want you to reach out and poke me in the eye.
She: What's the difference? You won't need it in the dark now.
He: I'd like to at least hold on to the idea of being able to see even if everything is going to be dark indefinitely.
She: That doesn't fit in with your gradual descent into oblivion.
He: It's the principle of the thing. Plus oblivion doesn't work that way at least I don't think so.
She: You think you've successfully gotten me to forget about wanting to feel your arm.
He: It's too dark for terms like success now.
She: Just give me your arm.
He: I could be giving you the wrong one and you couldn't tell the difference.
She: I'd just ask again for the other one.
He: I could give you the same one twice or however many times we carry on this thing that we're carrying on.
She: You don't want me to notice that your watch is missing.
He: What room have you been imagining we've been in all this time?
She: If we've been outside where has the Sun been all this time?
He: I think we've been knocked off course and we've been drifting in some dark part of the universe.
She: I remember watching my father play on his classic billiard table. You know the ones with the pockets with the netting. I loved that table. I would watch him plan his shots and see the balls go where he wanted them to go. In the beginning he let me retrieve the billiard balls for him. When I made mistakes and dropped a ball or two after a while he would tell me to leave them alone. "Keep your little dirty hands off the precious cargo, my dear," he'd say. So I'd stand there quietly trying not to make a sound or a move and I stopped looking at him and the thinking and his fucking plan and after even more time I got tired of the smacking sound. The more I ignored it the louder the smacking got. The only time it would decrease in volume was when I put my attention on the pockets and just look at the balls hanging stuck in the nets. Just hanging stuck.
- Max Stoltenberg
Monday, October 24, 2011
STRANDED STIRRINGS
When? Palms. When was? Palms they both burn scraped against the Earth or wood no splinters what is that piece is that a piece no splinters palms they both burn scraped against the Earth or wood no splinters or something else that cannot be brought to mind or against each other maybe when was the last time swallowed dirt or something better just be dirt this fall this infection.
When was when was the last time before this fall this infection falling infecting have some general timeline when it first started to set in the exhaustion the congestion the headache all wrapped sandwiched in a moroseness drizzled with lack of motivation. Palms burn a little less scraped against the Earth or side of something rough when was when was the last time before this fall this infection and its spread and subsequent derailment there it comes derailing things again just before something might have come together chances were probably not favorable. Chance gets characterized as fat sometimes maybe in terms of something corpulent behind thick walls and lots of corridors starving out what's outside and drying brooks struggling to push the dirt aside. Swallowed something trying not to taste it trying to spit it out better just be dirt this fall this infection.
When was when was the last time before this fall this infection falling infecting impact when the impact occurred actually followed by a cascade of other impacts when the forced swallowing if forced to swallow let it be dirt just dirt pushed aside by drying brooks. When was when was the last time before this fall this infection this talk of drying brooks was it then when we got sticks when we got sticks to stir in the remaining puddles when we got sticks to stir in the remaining puddles and watched the disturbed mud make cloud formations. When was that that was a we there was that girl with the greasy feet but pretty face there was a we wasn't there when was that that pretty face there was a pretty face wasn't there it had when was that when was the last time took a breath?
Breathing a weird sound coming out like that violin theme drifting up into a grey sky and narrowing its path when was that that the violin theme was heard like the narrowing sky a scene being squeezed into palms palms that still burn not as much as before when was when was that before these palms burn from scraping against the Earth or against something else cannot be brought to mind all that comes up are colors the colors of infection green sometimes yellow mostly green. Swallowed something the impact was it forced to swallow something trying not to taste it trying to spit it out better just be dirt this fall this infection.
- Max Stoltenberg
When was when was the last time before this fall this infection falling infecting have some general timeline when it first started to set in the exhaustion the congestion the headache all wrapped sandwiched in a moroseness drizzled with lack of motivation. Palms burn a little less scraped against the Earth or side of something rough when was when was the last time before this fall this infection and its spread and subsequent derailment there it comes derailing things again just before something might have come together chances were probably not favorable. Chance gets characterized as fat sometimes maybe in terms of something corpulent behind thick walls and lots of corridors starving out what's outside and drying brooks struggling to push the dirt aside. Swallowed something trying not to taste it trying to spit it out better just be dirt this fall this infection.
When was when was the last time before this fall this infection falling infecting impact when the impact occurred actually followed by a cascade of other impacts when the forced swallowing if forced to swallow let it be dirt just dirt pushed aside by drying brooks. When was when was the last time before this fall this infection this talk of drying brooks was it then when we got sticks when we got sticks to stir in the remaining puddles when we got sticks to stir in the remaining puddles and watched the disturbed mud make cloud formations. When was that that was a we there was that girl with the greasy feet but pretty face there was a we wasn't there when was that that pretty face there was a pretty face wasn't there it had when was that when was the last time took a breath?
Breathing a weird sound coming out like that violin theme drifting up into a grey sky and narrowing its path when was that that the violin theme was heard like the narrowing sky a scene being squeezed into palms palms that still burn not as much as before when was when was that before these palms burn from scraping against the Earth or against something else cannot be brought to mind all that comes up are colors the colors of infection green sometimes yellow mostly green. Swallowed something the impact was it forced to swallow something trying not to taste it trying to spit it out better just be dirt this fall this infection.
- Max Stoltenberg
Friday, October 21, 2011
NO LONGER AT THIS ADDRESS
The only thing being returned. Slipped the envelope into the outgoing mail slot. Touching nothing. Dull sound of the empty metal box letting it drop flat now. Letting it drop flat now. The only thing being returned. The rest is junk. Walking away from the set of mailboxes. Looking up at the night sky. A light up there as if moving indicates nothing but that it is still. Touching nothing. The only thing being returned. Slipped the envelope into the outgoing mail slot. Touching nothing. Dull sound of the empty metal box letting it drop flat now. Letting it drop flat now. The only thing being returned. The rest is junk. Walking away from the set of mailboxes. Looking up at the night sky. A light up there as if moving indicates nothing but that it is still. Going nowhere. Touching nothing. The rest is junk.
Standing in the garage next to the garage in the alley where the bins arranged the contents once in the garage now in the alley the contents once in the alley before becoming the contents of the garage to return to the bins arranged and rearranged. Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk. Hands tear envelopes and paper within. Paper within.
A couple of sheets half-torn fall to the ground leaning against the wall. Hands pick up and unfold the half-torn sheets. Small print whispers the following:
Program instructions for tracing. After creating identities tracing out traces with a program developed based on instructions for following traces of created identities developed out of paths developed and traced out skip a tear to understand skip out of programs built on skip tracing based in part on identities torn here and here skip skip to an end. Notoriously brief due to hesitation and indecision. They moved about each other tracing paths traced out of hesitation and indecision. Unfinished approaches completed by isolation. Clouds hung above with no progress like leaning against the wall of the address where former and subsequent residents no longer occupy only occupied with tracing out something the only thing returned.
Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. Too dark for the figure with long brown hair brushed from her face by a wind carrying her words in small print absorbed by the patterns traced in the rock she is leaning against the large rock that obscured the vast forest in the valley below and beyond. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk.
Approaching the set of mailboxes. Beginning of the week's middle waiting for the end to last and it does for not so long as it lasts. Tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste this street these houses across the street where the set of mailboxes now on this side of the street where the tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. Approaching the set of mailboxes walking away from the set of mailboxes the only thing being returned the rest is junk. Touching nothing. Walking away from the house approaching the address the address on the envelope the only thing being returned with the wrong name. Stepping into the house and standing in the doorway noticing the books and the picture the rest is junk. Dull sound of the empty metal box letting it drop flat now. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The set of mailboxes towards approaching towards resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. No following steps. No approaching steps. Across the street on this side where the roofs obscure the cemetery where a vast forest below and beyond no longer at this address. That side across from what once was has followed what once was becoming the contents returning. The only thing returned.
- Max Stoltenberg
Standing in the garage next to the garage in the alley where the bins arranged the contents once in the garage now in the alley the contents once in the alley before becoming the contents of the garage to return to the bins arranged and rearranged. Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk. Hands tear envelopes and paper within. Paper within.
A couple of sheets half-torn fall to the ground leaning against the wall. Hands pick up and unfold the half-torn sheets. Small print whispers the following:
Program instructions for tracing. After creating identities tracing out traces with a program developed based on instructions for following traces of created identities developed out of paths developed and traced out skip a tear to understand skip out of programs built on skip tracing based in part on identities torn here and here skip skip to an end. Notoriously brief due to hesitation and indecision. They moved about each other tracing paths traced out of hesitation and indecision. Unfinished approaches completed by isolation. Clouds hung above with no progress like leaning against the wall of the address where former and subsequent residents no longer occupy only occupied with tracing out something the only thing returned.
Leaning against the wall of the address the wall where the bins arranged the contents too dark to see the bug that waited there stuck there died there too dark to see the bug there on the wall leaning against the wall of the address. Too dark for the figure with long brown hair brushed from her face by a wind carrying her words in small print absorbed by the patterns traced in the rock she is leaning against the large rock that obscured the vast forest in the valley below and beyond. The only thing being returned. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The rest is junk.
Approaching the set of mailboxes. Beginning of the week's middle waiting for the end to last and it does for not so long as it lasts. Tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste this street these houses across the street where the set of mailboxes now on this side of the street where the tail ends before resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. Approaching the set of mailboxes walking away from the set of mailboxes the only thing being returned the rest is junk. Touching nothing. Walking away from the house approaching the address the address on the envelope the only thing being returned with the wrong name. Stepping into the house and standing in the doorway noticing the books and the picture the rest is junk. Dull sound of the empty metal box letting it drop flat now. Letting it drop flat now. Touching nothing. The set of mailboxes towards approaching towards resuming the block copy and paste of steps following the steps. No following steps. No approaching steps. Across the street on this side where the roofs obscure the cemetery where a vast forest below and beyond no longer at this address. That side across from what once was has followed what once was becoming the contents returning. The only thing returned.
- Max Stoltenberg
Monday, October 17, 2011
WASTED EXPLANATIONS
Ran out of rocks to throw. The water is settling. The circles are getting smaller. The circles are fading and disbanding no more performances. Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on things until they bore holes through profiles never knowing which one was preferred. The circles are getting smaller. The circles are fading and disbanding no more performances. Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness. Absent depths absent until the bottom falls out. It fell out no point picking it up where they left off others continue on where to pick up from? It fell out no point picking it up where they left off others continue on where to pick up from here or there or anywhere absent depths absent until the bottom falls out falling out they had a falling out from the story above theirs while the fires burned on every story in the building it had been building up to this thickening of the plot the corner plot the corner office the corner where the building went up the corner where the building was going up in smoke until the water the water for drowning out the flames and the dirtying of the day until the water is settling the circles are getting smaller the circles are fading and disbanding no more performances. Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on things until they bore holes through profiles never knowing which one was preferred. The circles are getting smaller. The circles are fading and disbanding no more performances. Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness. Absent depths absent until the bottom falls out. It fell out no point picking it up where they left off others continue on where to pick up from? It fell out no point picking it up where they left off others continue on where to pick up from here or there or anywhere absent depths absent until the bottom falls out falling out they had a falling out from the story above theirs while the fires burned on every story in the building it had been building up to this falling out they had a falling out before this falling out feeling out of it for dropping out dropping the subject subjecting themselves to subjects of absent depths until the bottom falls out each of them belted dropping the subject nonetheless subjects falling out fallen into this falling out for a dropping out subjecting themselves to every breath taking no more leaps while they subjected themselves to every breath until the water the water for drowning out the flames and the dirtying of the day until the water is settling the circles are getting smaller the circles are fading and disbanding no more performances no more performances the run is done.
Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on things until they bore holes through profiles never knowing which one which window they opened windows windows opening onto a field windows opening onto a playground windows opening onto a classroom windows opening onto a voice never called on windows opening onto a roster with a missing name windows opening onto conversations explanations that fall on faces turned towards the screen that grows flatter with every explanation windows opening onto hands that lost the balloon floating off on the wind windows open on color what color was it the balloon floating on the wind floating on the wind through open windows opening windows for the wind against them and through them through the passages their passages for absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on the shrinking size of his work looking down at the toilet pissing into realizing the sinkhole opening up the absent depths until the bottom falls out as the piss sprays further down feet teetering on the edge teetering teetering.
- Max Stoltenberg
Absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on things until they bore holes through profiles never knowing which one which window they opened windows windows opening onto a field windows opening onto a playground windows opening onto a classroom windows opening onto a voice never called on windows opening onto a roster with a missing name windows opening onto conversations explanations that fall on faces turned towards the screen that grows flatter with every explanation windows opening onto hands that lost the balloon floating off on the wind windows open on color what color was it the balloon floating on the wind floating on the wind through open windows opening windows for the wind against them and through them through the passages their passages for absent depths there for too long still prolonging madness and chewing on the inside of jaws chewing on the shrinking size of his work looking down at the toilet pissing into realizing the sinkhole opening up the absent depths until the bottom falls out as the piss sprays further down feet teetering on the edge teetering teetering.
- Max Stoltenberg
Sunday, October 16, 2011
INCOMPLETE SENTENCES
Oversight frames them into snapshots. Haven't forgotten them never will will will never will from passed it passed over with tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can induce vomiting conclusions. It is the scratch work that claws at the hills rolling like the waves passed over with tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can cause discomfort awkward canned laughter followed by the gag response. Up from servitude onto loftier levels along the walls of the towering egg carton cracking each other up rolling from one holding space to the next one depression to another separated by outcroppings of peering into the business of another cushioned by oversight frames them into snapshots.
From one ever after once upon a time to another narrated by infection the shell game continues. Passed on with radial voice-overs wrapped into tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can induce dizziness where the world spins with its spin revolving positions around the maelstrom dragging brains from rolling waves and rolling hills being clawed at by forgetting lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale as rolling hills the soft rolling hills are expurgated from between valleys emptied out into depressions along the towering egg carton shelling out tiptoeing and carelessness.
The Interview
The wallpaper was not only distracting it clashed with their complexion.
(Needs a hell of a lot less polish).
Interview with an Equation
Both sides agreed that a shave would do the trick. Going out on a limb here and a limb there until the figure was truncated.
"Can tell from your getting back up from that bat to the head that dinner is going to be delayed."
"Stop procrastinating and mix them together and see what happens. Stop using your fear of the roof coming off as an excuse. See what happens. Come and see and come and see what happens. Your fear in your face watching the splotchy red palm marks swim about your skin makes up for things when one is in not so terrible a mood."
"Which one is which one is which one you both take turns being good and being bad mostly bad."
"All part of the same face same gestures for taking these daggers and making those eyes halt their shifting from side to side. May as well let you tip this boat right over right not over for quite some daggers and mud."
"Another postponed funeral prolongs the interview."
An Audition Instead
"What motivates you?"
"Some of my organs."
"Which ones?"
"A small minority."
"Can you name just a couple?"
"They prefer anonymity unless they're being replaced then it doesn't matter does it?"
"How would you describe your personality?"
"Double A."
"Alcoholics Anonymous?"
"Battery."
"Energetic?"
"Threatening contact."
"What?"
"I meant power source."
"I thought you reminded me of my father."
"Was he threatening? Did he ever threaten you with very dark green wet vegetables or pungent fish?"
"Pungent?"
"Formidable was the word I was preferring come to think of it. Did he wear sunglasses frequently and unnecessarily?"
"I'm beginning to notice my chest tightening with this word of yours - threatening."
"These words of mine these words of yours. I've been noticing your chest for a spell the spell you cast. You know come to think of it I believe I more accurately remind you of your boss sociopathic authority figure that he is while your father probably turned grey prematurely in fact I could wager that there is much he probably did prematurely. Additionally, come to think of it, you know what I would change about this audition?"
"That people like you wouldn't be eligible?"
"Eligibility doesn't apply to me. I would change the format."
"The format of the audition?"
"No, the format outside of the audition."
Fingernails tapping on the counter in front of the teller's window. Oversight frames them into snapshots. Haven't forgotten them never will will will never will from passed it passed over with tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can induce vomiting conclusions. Don't forget to check your work. The scratch work that claws at the hills sinking along with the ships between the rolling waves. Missing the hills forgetting more than missing with their oversight can't forget what they want to remember with their tires large tires passing over shaping minds into rolling waves. Some died before their sentence was complete. Some were born so they wouldn't miss out.
- Max Stoltenberg
From one ever after once upon a time to another narrated by infection the shell game continues. Passed on with radial voice-overs wrapped into tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can induce dizziness where the world spins with its spin revolving positions around the maelstrom dragging brains from rolling waves and rolling hills being clawed at by forgetting lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale as rolling hills the soft rolling hills are expurgated from between valleys emptied out into depressions along the towering egg carton shelling out tiptoeing and carelessness.
The Interview
The wallpaper was not only distracting it clashed with their complexion.
(Needs a hell of a lot less polish).
Interview with an Equation
Both sides agreed that a shave would do the trick. Going out on a limb here and a limb there until the figure was truncated.
"Can tell from your getting back up from that bat to the head that dinner is going to be delayed."
"Stop procrastinating and mix them together and see what happens. Stop using your fear of the roof coming off as an excuse. See what happens. Come and see and come and see what happens. Your fear in your face watching the splotchy red palm marks swim about your skin makes up for things when one is in not so terrible a mood."
"Which one is which one is which one you both take turns being good and being bad mostly bad."
"All part of the same face same gestures for taking these daggers and making those eyes halt their shifting from side to side. May as well let you tip this boat right over right not over for quite some daggers and mud."
"Another postponed funeral prolongs the interview."
An Audition Instead
"What motivates you?"
"Some of my organs."
"Which ones?"
"A small minority."
"Can you name just a couple?"
"They prefer anonymity unless they're being replaced then it doesn't matter does it?"
"How would you describe your personality?"
"Double A."
"Alcoholics Anonymous?"
"Battery."
"Energetic?"
"Threatening contact."
"What?"
"I meant power source."
"I thought you reminded me of my father."
"Was he threatening? Did he ever threaten you with very dark green wet vegetables or pungent fish?"
"Pungent?"
"Formidable was the word I was preferring come to think of it. Did he wear sunglasses frequently and unnecessarily?"
"I'm beginning to notice my chest tightening with this word of yours - threatening."
"These words of mine these words of yours. I've been noticing your chest for a spell the spell you cast. You know come to think of it I believe I more accurately remind you of your boss sociopathic authority figure that he is while your father probably turned grey prematurely in fact I could wager that there is much he probably did prematurely. Additionally, come to think of it, you know what I would change about this audition?"
"That people like you wouldn't be eligible?"
"Eligibility doesn't apply to me. I would change the format."
"The format of the audition?"
"No, the format outside of the audition."
Fingernails tapping on the counter in front of the teller's window. Oversight frames them into snapshots. Haven't forgotten them never will will will never will from passed it passed over with tires large tires shaping minds into rolling waves where ships are sunk and fishermen carved out from between unfinished lines of thought cast out as bait dispensed in ear droppers for another tale. Can induce vomiting conclusions. Don't forget to check your work. The scratch work that claws at the hills sinking along with the ships between the rolling waves. Missing the hills forgetting more than missing with their oversight can't forget what they want to remember with their tires large tires passing over shaping minds into rolling waves. Some died before their sentence was complete. Some were born so they wouldn't miss out.
- Max Stoltenberg
SNARL
Seeing things. Things that are there. At least to get it down on the surface not any good on the surface as far as that goes down with the words from a distant song a song screeching around within the walls of a head under a sky between hands with fingers missing from some such that refuses to be spoken about time it was put down to trauma and its changing lanes so carelessly while reciting lines of the do not worry slapped onto the box that leaked when set right side up fuck that right side up who said? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off or something turned off to all the surface stuffiness holding this nose in place this place for looking around seeing things things that are there at least to get it down on the surface not any good on the surface as far as that goes with the words from a distant surface was it bed was it thighs were they? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off or something turned off to all the hands with fingers missing gaps in hands gaps not where they need to be where they are needed to be when surfaces get in the way of gaps in surfaces an idea at some point in some place where surfaces are busy being vertical for a great deal of falling and landing bad landings leaning on another criteria slanting into landing bad landings who said that? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off or something turned off to all the hands with fingers missing gaps in hands gaps not where they need to be where they are needed to be when surfaces get in the way of gaps in all the surfaces slanted towards versions more appealing to those more appealing as they move and glide along surfaces their surfaces beyond elbows that never make it to tables turned as surfaces slant slanting into landing bad landings who said that? Who said so? Who said so so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on if one must know no one needs to know the needs or the needing to have it known as no one has ever asked who's asking? Who said so so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on if one must never care.
He carries the plastic gun that shoots the plastic stick with the suction cup at the end of it. At the end of it the suction cup never sticks to anything standing up on toes to reach the sink and run the water on the suction cup to make it stick could have gotten the water gun instead but didn't what was this head thinking must have been turned off who said that? Who said so so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on if one must know about what screeches around and whispers in hushed tones in this head as if turned off turned on if one must never care. Wouldn't do that. Wouldn't care, that is. Missing fingers the gaps turn it off for a shorter time than one would estimate or guess or estimate how many missing fingers how many gaps that surfaces for thighs when a surface for a mouth on contact reappeared on contact was itself landing bad landing will suffice suffice it to say who says so? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on left on all night forgotten glowing with neon signs facing the back of the eyes facing the back of the head facing the back of the face always facing the about face.
The mask is on inside out doing the about face always facing the about face half a mind to run through it again the 180 degrees turning about behind this mask that is inside out doing the about face always facing the about face half a mind to run through it again the 180 degrees turning about behind this mask that is inside out doing the about face on the surface arms next to those thighs that gave off something when giving still existed alongside arms alongside things on surfaces that held up before slanting into landings bad landings shaking the turned off head coming to this who said so? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on left on all night forgotten glowing with neon signs facing the back of the eyes facing the back of the head facing the back of the face always facing the about face covered in the mask that is inside out doing the about face always facing the about face within half a mind to about face.
- Max Stoltenberg
He carries the plastic gun that shoots the plastic stick with the suction cup at the end of it. At the end of it the suction cup never sticks to anything standing up on toes to reach the sink and run the water on the suction cup to make it stick could have gotten the water gun instead but didn't what was this head thinking must have been turned off who said that? Who said so so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on if one must know about what screeches around and whispers in hushed tones in this head as if turned off turned on if one must never care. Wouldn't do that. Wouldn't care, that is. Missing fingers the gaps turn it off for a shorter time than one would estimate or guess or estimate how many missing fingers how many gaps that surfaces for thighs when a surface for a mouth on contact reappeared on contact was itself landing bad landing will suffice suffice it to say who says so? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on left on all night forgotten glowing with neon signs facing the back of the eyes facing the back of the head facing the back of the face always facing the about face.
The mask is on inside out doing the about face always facing the about face half a mind to run through it again the 180 degrees turning about behind this mask that is inside out doing the about face always facing the about face half a mind to run through it again the 180 degrees turning about behind this mask that is inside out doing the about face on the surface arms next to those thighs that gave off something when giving still existed alongside arms alongside things on surfaces that held up before slanting into landings bad landings shaking the turned off head coming to this who said so? Who said that so hushed as if this head was turned off turned on left on all night forgotten glowing with neon signs facing the back of the eyes facing the back of the head facing the back of the face always facing the about face covered in the mask that is inside out doing the about face always facing the about face within half a mind to about face.
- Max Stoltenberg
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