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That key was missing for about since the other four keys previously spent on doors to rooms with no room at all until the next key was taken or given confused about since the other four or was it three no it was definitely five or about confused that that key was found missing again reappeared on the lost and found list flossing the teeth of the shredder that was the key principle with no room at all until the next key was taken or given confused about since the other two or was it originally three or four and ended up being definitely five or none whatsoever is what's left of what previously was spent on doors opening as others close into each other for each the other others onto no room at all until the next key there was always a next key copied and recopied to straighten out the bending bent so often in locks spent on doors stinking of ass more than possible anything possible in the handing out of keys the backing up of keys the backing up against doors that open as others close onto no room at all.
Tools. Plenty of tools for digging for screwing for screwing in blind spots hot spots off camera on camera. Plenty of tools for digging for screwing screwing blind hot off on opposite same same old young same old same old. Tools. Plenty of tools for digging for screwing for tossing for tightening for loosening for cutting for getting until forgotten and bumped into again for collision sake out into the open bumping into again for the sake of another collision for the sake of nothing different only the ordinary bumping into the forgotten and familiar smacking into the face same old same old smacking of the face into the bumped into stuff. Tools for cutting through the fence the last of several the last barrier of this prison the next prison in a line of the residential block prison block same color scheme same number scheme same scheme same old cutting out onto some room for only a short extending into a desk in the way the way the desk in the way crawling under the desk and clocking the top of the head into a clock an old forgotten clock remembered with a clocking to the top of the head off the top of the head it eludes a space only space blanks strung together thinking and thunking between under and soon over more junk more junk to come a lot out there in the junkyard outside to return to which direction? Others say they know only know each object as it is encountered with a bang and a thunk and a smack to the face the nose wiping blood with the sleeve snagging on eyelids and lids of containers falling between abandoned vehicles climbing through backseats stinking of ass and other orifices and artifices of exchange wiping wet and crusty with pants thighs shrug inside withdrawing into numbed forgetting of the briefly thawed faked loves and frozen made up faces of years ago years years plenty of tools tools for escaping for escaping out into the junkyard just outside along the residential prison block blocked hole blocked by neglected fishing boats with holes of their own holes of their own getaways ended too soon only to extend the stench of fish that have gotten away to linger in the nostrils tumbling over furniture deteriorated but enough remaining to hamper escaping out into the junkyard just outside along the residential prison block blocked hole blocked by neglected fishing boats with holes of their own holes of their own getaways ended too soon only to extend the stench of fish that have gotten away to linger in the nostrils tumbling over furniture out into the junkyard just outside along the residential prison block blocked hole blocked on both sides pushing against each other pushing pushing to get in pushing to get out pushing pushing pushing get out get in get out in out in out out out in in in out push out push out push out push push push hold it hold it hold it hold hold hold hold wait wait hold scream scream scream let it out keep it in let it out keep it in voice screaming voice holding holding pushing pushing fists gripping gripping smacking into junk more junk blocking blocking the hole blocked on both sides pushing against each other.
- Max Stoltenberg
Headlights compete for the air
above the asphalt
stabbing light into the thickening darkness
that will not part
Headlights splash against fences
Lemon sting of metal wires
Knitted impatience
caught in webs of restrictions
chaining
cutting
links
bottoms fall out
and land on shafts
of probes
sent by someone
Who knows who
Making violins wait their turn
no feed
just conducting sphincters
that's what the notes
were written in
High beams again
illuminate nothing
but blind the back
of the inside
of the head
forgot
who knows who
something about
being sent
up
into the body
whatever it was
can't rid this
of that
forgot
flash reflection off teeth
maybe hers
forgot
High beams again
illuminating nothing
but blind the back
of the inside
of the head
forgot
fingers rub the neck
dying whispers below the skin
sinking away
sinking
away
- Max Stoltenberg
Then when it has come to this which it has then when it has it has and then when no one is looking when everyone has been looking at something else someone else which has been surmised to be something else in their tuned evaluations and assumptions then when it has come to that which that is all that it has been a has been when then it has that going for it then when all that is all that it can come up with then when their tuned evaluations has come up wanting after all its wanting their wanting because they have been wanting when they have been wanting when then has been nearly when overly then when wanting nothing but enough is enough for them which it has then grown into more than enough and above the call of wanting calling when then it has come to all so often when it has then when no one is looking when everyone has been looking at something else someone else which has been surmised to be something else in their tuned evaluations and assumptions then when it has come to that which that is all that it has when then it has that going for it then when all that is all that it can come up with then when their tuned finely tuned and refinely tuned evaluations have come up wanting have come up wanting come up wanting up wanting wanting ing the ing of wanting in the present future wanting when then is all that for wanting in the present future.
Life erupts and flashes back to the places inside the dark spots of the muscle tissue, arteries, and bones where it glows with erupting spontaneity erupting into the random when then it has when it has that all that is has been wanting in the splattering everywhere of molten luck. Eruptions cooking it is when then it has and hasn't been in the oven of life took long it then sticks to all the walls redistributed and splattering everywhere of molten luck. Against the flow with the flow fleeing from the heat of the kitchen and into the lava flow an extra topping for the yard penetrating those barriers between some like it hot and some like it concrete layered in desert what luck that luck then when all that hot is a dry hot compared as all that is compared when coming up wanting all that wanting compared to that wet hot eruption of life splattering everywhere of molten luck baked half-baked raw burned raw tough luck.
When the luck gets tough the going gets mired in the substances of nature teeming with the eruptions of life viscid and glutinous with life's eruptions spontaneously secreting the random luck of life adhesively infected with life homeless all this when then it has come to this when home at last to reside within its own intestines refinishing the walls never finished with the projects of lifelong learning burning holes through cells flooded with waste imprisoned for life with the spontaneous and impulsive and lucky eruptions of life and its products.
When Baked and Half-Baked scrambled onto higher ground surrounded by the random eruptions that showed no signs of abating, they stood. They looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava.
Half-Baked: We're lucky we made it up to this spot.
Baked: Wait. I want to open it up. I'll go first.
Half-Baked: Why do want to go first?
Baked: Because you're Half-Baked.
Half-Baked: You've got a point there. OK, you open it up.
When Baked and Half-Baked scrambled onto higher ground surrounded by the random eruptions that showed no signs of abating, they stood. They looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava.
Baked: We're lucky we made it up to this spot.
Half-Baked: You call this lucky? Luck to just prolong our lives as we slowly boil in this heat and suffocate as well?
Baked: Wait. Stop. Now we've got to flip it back.
Half-Baked: Flip it back?
Baked: Of course, this way I open it up, but I miss out on that good reply you just had.
Half-Baked: It was pretty good wasn't it?
Baked: Then let's flip it back the way it was. I'm sorry, I should have left well enough alone.
Half-Baked: Apology accepted and what's done is done.
Baked: We flipped it which means we are capable of starting over so I need to set it right by putting it back the way it was.
Half-Baked: If we do that then we'll be undoing the idea of having started over.
Baked: No. We'll just be starting over again and proving once more that it is possible to start over yet again.
Half-Baked: I can also prove that volition is just as important as the concept of starting over by making a conscious choice not to start over.
Baked: Oh, don't do that.
Half-Baked: I refuse so there.
Surrounded by the random eruptions that showed no signs of abating, Baked and Half-Baked scrambled onto higher ground surrounded by the random eruptions that showed no signs of abating, they stood. They looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava. They stood as they looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava.
Half-Baked: It started over anyway.
Baked: The word order was somewhat changed and there was an inordinate amount of repetition.
Half-Baked: You're the one being repetitious with all your wanting to start over and prove that you can't get it right the first time and that I have better responses.
Baked: Better responses. Always needed more time and more repeating things to get it right and sometimes never manage to even accomplish that. There was this young guy don't remember his name who didn't need more time or to start over. He just got it right the first time. He was going places.
Half-Baked: What happened to him?
Baked: He fell in a volcano.
Signs of abating there were no signs of abating with these signs. There were signs but not signs of abating. The signs that were there were hard to read due to the effects of the environment. Baked and Half-Baked Baked and Half-Baked scrambled onto higher ground surrounded by the random eruptions that showed no signs of abating, they stood. They looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava. They stood as they looked around them at the spreading ocean of molten lava erupting randomly around the hard to read signs.
Half-Baked: It's just going to go through it's whatever it's doing.
Baked: I was just going to say.
Half-Baked: I have an idea why don't we reflip it around backwards to the unreversed way we had it before like you wanted to put it back and we'll just switch names.
Baked: Why would we want to do that?
Half-Baked: Well, since you want to keep starting over you can be Half-Baked and I'll be Baked and the whatever is trying to going through whatever it's trying we can call Half-Assed.
Baked: Sounds good to me, I think.
(They pause and wait several seconds).
Half-Baked: It's not starting over.
Half-Baked: It's just doing whatever of its continuing thing.
Half-Baked: It just keeps going anyway.
Half-Baked: With no signs.
Half-Baked: I see no signs.
Half-Baked: Listen to that.
Half-Baked: Listen to what?
Half-Baked: The lava the sound of the lava.
Half-Baked: I'm listening.
Half-Baked: What does that sound like to you?
Half-Baked: It sounds like some horrible brass section from that fucked up symphony I can't remember the number.
Half-Baked: I was thinking it sounded more like despairing bassoons or tortured ducks.
Half-Baked: Large tortured ducks.
Half-Baked: I'm confused.
Half-Baked: About what number symphony?
Half-Baked: No, about whose lines I've been expressing.
Headphones are taken off as the surrounding noise surrounds heads and phones as lines are down. The surrounding noise surrounds heads and phones as lines are down. Heads and phones are surrounded by noise as line are down as lines are down. Lines that were down come back up erupting into life with the noise of life splattering
all over and over again when the luck gets tough the going gets mired in the substances of nature teeming with the eruptions of life viscid and glutinous with life's eruptions spontaneously secreting the random luck of life adhesively infected with life homeless all this when then it has come to this when home at last to reside within its own intestines refinishing the walls never finished with the projects of lifelong learning burning holes through cells flooded with waste imprisoned for life with the spontaneous and impulsive and lucky eruptions of life and its products.
- Max Stoltenberg
On the surface walking stopping and not moving thinking that doesn't prove very much of what is not or what is it doesn't prove it it doesn't only an it and that does it. Not so easy does it. Either way on the surface stopping and not moving thinking that doesn't prove very much of what is not or is it doesn't prove it it doesn't only an it and that does it not so easy does it as it may be still may be nothing but it follows the contours of the surface formed out of the molding of the passing of life life passing molding into the forms of the surface along which beings being as they be with the is what it is following along just doing just that as much as they be all they want doing just that following along the surface and when stopping that nonsense stop and let their eyes and let their noses and let their ears and let their tongues and let their thoughts their erased thoughts follow along the surface up and down and up and down and up and down and straight a little bit and up a little bit and down a lot down even more and up a lot and out of reach and down and out of reach following along the surface with its solid and swampish and so full of holes and buried in surface and its contours formed out of the molding of the passing of life life passing molding into the forms of the surface along which beings being as they be with the is what it is following along the surface along the rifts along the scaffolding along the repairs along the passing of time along the passing of life along the molding of life forming the surface and along its rifts along the scaffolding along the repairs along the passing of more time more along the same business of the contours of the surface following and following along the contours and shades and frames of contours and frames of shades along the pages along the catalogs along the catatonic along the tectonic along the followers following along the cracks along the big fucking crack running down the middle between here and there and then and now and just a moment ago just a breath ago just a breath between knuckles her knuckles so long ago so far following only the surface of knuckles following only smoke over ash covered knuckles cracked with the mundane alone along following along the crack between repeat and break it up into personalized cracks between let it go and keep it to oneself between do and don't so close together in the brain splitting headache shut up shut the page answer the page shut it answer take it easy take it take it have it die on it die on the molding surface following with aching head and feet with bloodshot eyes bloodshot senses shotgun nonsense put it down pick it up throw it away might need it might need might not need always need hate that despise that part that part of the contours of the surface the sudden sharp downward part or sudden steep upward part getting stuck with that part the part with the might need part always needing part hate that despise that part that part where it splits into following along the surface the molding surface of life and its molding along its acidulating along its coagulating in limbs inside the limbs up and down sudden sharp stopping nothing moving and then it moves again following along the contours of the passing and molding of life forming the surface slowing breath a shallower and shallower breath that can ripple a smaller and smaller and smaller part of the surface hate that despise that part.
- Max Stoltenberg
The trunk for now will be the field
The field of then will be tossed
and
maybe something else
who knows?
Forcing hands against the sides
of a world reduced
to the lowest denominator
of the common disqualified
Harried by corners filled in
not even corners anymore
Lips held in toward the thought
Not now
Not then
Trunks of fields
Dry with forgotten endings
That never happen
Forcing hands against the sides
of a world reduced
to the lowest denominator
of the common disqualified
Ink was it?
A voice was it?
A metal sharp metal was it?
Marking territory
coming to a point
maybe
maybe not
probably not
coming to a head
coming to a trunk
Forcing hands against the sides
moving apart skulls
in the dark gardens
filling corners for the burial
under accumulation compiled by
worms
they are their insistence
crawling through it
forcing hands
- Max Stoltenberg
Leftovers drop to the floor
Shatter and collect
Age
What tense?
What tense?
These are the waves
and corruptible cheeks
forming stories
to lure
little legs
little knees
to the pain-ground
Swinging over rocks
Digging up
empty water
inhaled into fishy wayward
last names
those lonely last names
Screwing off heads
and knifing them into some other
bodies
nobodies
Impress on the wrinkled matter
smoothing over bean soup
airing out judgments
little ears
little heads
shrink their faces at the stench
Floating just floating
in the can
collecting grease
to slide time
into holes
hurrying growths
congealing tomorrow
Scraping along
a little more inflamed each pass
shuttle to shuttle
a bench drops the cup of juice
no lid
These are the waves
and corruptible cheeks
forming stories
to lure
little legs
little knees
to the pain-ground
Scraping along
a little more inflamed each pass
shuttle to shuttle
a bench drops the cup of juice
no lid
- Max Stoltenberg
It's all in the grip. The grip they have getting tighter and loosening with the mind that unravels. A hold of the arms for throwing over the shoulders and letting the bodies land where they land. The bodies have landed. Lose a grip and unwind the connections so much or so less that way when it comes apart. Drifting down over the land frosting the bodies where they have landed. Here where living is done and it is done to lie about where the bodies that have landed this land is where searching stops where bodies land and where they lie for lifetimes of lying and covering things and covering the coverings.
Against a wall bodies before they are cast about to land where they will lie and cover and cover coverings for what lies underneath has done nothing but lie there atop the lack of beginning no beginning. Here is where living where living is done and it is done to lie about where bodies land and where they lie for lifetimes of lying and covering things and covering the coverings that lie atop the lack of beginning no beginning whatsoever.
Against it the only thing these bodies can remain against now before they are cast about to land where they will lie stand these bodies. Something a wind maybe winds do that can do that may have possibly removed a blindfold and it only takes one to start the whole miserable business of vision. And the one removes another blindfold.
Body #1: Allow me. There. How's that? Better, right?
Body #2: Crap. Must have an eye infection or something the strain where one of its most insidious characteristics is a painful sensitivity to light.
Body #1: The Sun is sinking. The day is just about over. We've missed another one. We are too late for what has happened while we have been like this. I should remove theirs.
(As they reach to remove the blindfold from the third body standing, the second raises their arms to stop them).
Body #2: Don't do more of that routine.
Body #1: What routine? I'm attempting to undo the way things have been.
Body #2: Don't do more of your routine of blinding people while acting as if their permission matters to you.
Body #1: Blinding? I'm doing the opposite. Has the darkness gotten to you?
Body #2: Perhaps. Bandages are thin layers between one darkness and another.
Body #1: You've confirmed it for me at least that it might take longer for you to adjust to the light than others.
Body #2: That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that one before? However many shoulders I have been flung over and wherever I have landed I can still hear things the same old messages and directions as the images become both more vivid and murkier.
Body #1: I prefer what's out here to what's in my head and especially what lurks about in yours. Now let me take their blindfold off.
Body #2: They're not interested anyway.
Body #1: Really? What makes you so sure?
Body #2: They haven't bothered to interject.
Body #1: They are probably just being polite.
Body #2: So much for politeness and the thickness of its dam to hold back the flood of questions and interjections. Not a stirring of waves or even a leak. Just politeness and its gauze to soak in the bleeding of resignation. Have I told you the story about the woman the mother the secretary who wanted to quit as her options evaporated up into the clouds that hung over her. Her vision became blurred and she visited the eye doctor who told her the story about the man who read book after book to amass an ever expanding range of mountains of information as his hearing failed and missed the requests of those who wanted to share in the climbing and discovering of the various places the corners the plateaus and steep drops among the mountains. The woman followed prescription after prescription until everything about her the clouds that moved heavily and imperceptibly above her everything lost its contrast.
Body #1: No gratitude. That's your problem. Now let me remove their blindfold.
Body #2: Wait until tomorrow. We are too late for another day and what has happened unseen without us. You're one to be so easily persuaded aren't you? Persuaded by the wind. I heard it. Isn't that what started it? So moved you are and inspired to make everyone else like you.
Body #1: You want us all to stay like you and be like you? Blind? And willfully ignorant?
Body #2: No. Just unwilling to keep watching again. Just when I was getting used to no longer watching it starts again the watching and the looking and the searching around in the layout the floor plan we can navigate with our eyes shut and now we get to play a pointless variation of the game where we pretend we're not hostages anymore. If you want to take her blindfold off at least put mine back on before I forget the rest of it the rest I used to have before my hearing overwhelmed my sense of touch to touch and be touched and still had a grip. Its loosening the wind you and the rest along the wall loosening the grip unraveling as it reminds me of all the loops they made around this body rotating and orbiting like a foreign body an alien planet lifeless to preserve in its motionless resolve until they deliver us to another land another floor plan we'll strain to hear for clues of how to follow their directions unseen another land where they will carry as their unwanted burden and throw us and cast us into some other scene where we will land where the wrapping on the outside will contain the bleeding of resignation and the looping of thoughts inside our heads this head where the dark things lurk about in the dark at the end of the day having just missed what happened before unseen and without us.
- Max Stoltenberg
