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His nose was about to drip and the elbow rode the anatomy about the outskirts of town like he walked like he drifted like him listening or trying not to listen to the thoughts hitting against the passenger side of his head the rear passenger side thudding in the manner of uneaten fruit disposed of so after the fact so after the complaining deficiencies they were called and brought up as pizza crust forming into hot vomit that was just too large a bite. The napkin holder could deny it all they wanted, but there was no countering the reality its role it had to play in the events leading up to her imprisonment her early release that was never put on the table as they whispered and muttered their opinions of her and her family well they were her family self-deprecation disguised as assertiveness and insults saved for the moment that moment of blankness filling the mind as it does where the void of the universe leaks in through the atmosphere and poisons those who must go through life until death put off by turns in circumstances that send them the uneaten fruit against the passenger side of his head the rear passenger side thudding with notes and the taking of notes that seems to make no difference as the napkin holder could deny it all they wanted telling its dreams broken and pulverized to the wrong person nearby nearby that's what they used to get to her the heartless proximity.
"I was thinking, are you hearing what I'm saying?"
"If you got to the point I could tell you you could tell me if I was hearing anything anything at all if there was a point."
"It's just that you don't look like it like you're hearing me."
"Why not? What am I looking like that doesn't look like I'm hearing you besides you're not getting to the point if there is one?"
"Well, to begin with, you look like you're staring off into space."
"I am staring off into space. It's on my screen at the moment."
"Are you looking outside our galaxy again?"
"And what if I was? Are you going to tell me what is so worth hearing?"
"I was thinking about what my boss said the other day or it might have been the person in the next position above or below them."
"Why would I be interested in what you were thinking about? Decisions and action mostly action is what merits my attention that and actual water with not so much urine in it or the other stuff that gets in there or when the smoke from the burning mounds of bodies starts to lose that really putrid edge to it."
"They said something as they were leaving and locked us in the last time about attitudes and I tried not to make it about me, but, and this is where I get to what I was thinking about I mean really thinking about and when what is between my thoughts the sharp daggers that poke holes through the top of my brain and I notice how when I get something done something that has an appearance that might get their approval and I know it's not because I did anything with my musings or thought differently or more in line or applied any of their nauseating rhetoric it was because I let it go my voice that silence disguised as what might have another sit down next to you when they wondered why you were alone it was a muffling a reticence masquerading as a human with its face to the wall knitting together some bloodless clump of decades together that can be erased in seconds a browning banana peel the limb that once reached for the trap its teeth chattering our name connected with a device not recognized."
Bedtime pressed into milk
past its expiration
who is drumming?
setting on fire those
who stood one behind the other
going back to the start
start over
bare feet naked
and stepping to the rhythm
of the racing heart
fell out the window
of the plane
asleep and the powerful
clouds and the powerful
ripped the sleep
out of my eyes
kept them closed
nothing between them
remained
but returned to annoy
- Max Stoltenberg
Lights on eyes widen
brain contracts the check
is torn into pieces the numbers
run out of room on the sheet
of what she was saying
about high school and what
they should talk about
so she would feel a little bit
more confident in her reasons
her justifications for
why she doesn't belong
what they end up talking about
anyway
without her
on ahead they skip
skip over the part where she
they come back
and make a meal of her
spitting up the bones of her expressions
drying out in the back
"So you're going to play the geometry teacher now?"
"Geometry teacher? What does my saying my ex-husband never took me seriously have to do with my playing a geometry teacher?"
"So you're going to play the master chef now?"
"Master chef? What does my describing how my boss twisted the letter opener after he inserted it into my stomach have to do with my playing a master chef?"
"So you're going to play the gastroenterologist now?"
"Gastroenterologist? What does my mentioning how he was all the time behind my never being able to escape that hellhole have to do with my playing a gastroenterologist?"
"So you're going to play the foodborne parasite now?"
"You're saying that because I forgot about the salad for a couple of weeks? Months?"
"I was referring to what you do to every relationship you've ever been in."
"Foodborne parasite? You're saying that because of all the greasy fast food I never finish or you're saying that because of the sound?"
"The sound?"
"The sound I make?"
"When you do what?"
"When I'm being a parasite?"
"Oh, I thought you meant the other thing."
- Max Stoltenberg
Egregious is a white board background
Destined for discomfort
Weaseling our way out unsuccessfully
Falling off the Earth's foreskin
Didn't know that was still there
Swimming through something that makes us ill
Kept our mouths shut
Allowed to see the answers
Eyes bound open with duct tape
the blue circle smeared
by a shitty thumb
don't mind if you do or don't
doesn't matter to us
inserting double spaces
violating laws of motion
in front of the television
remote up his ass
erasers in his ears
Do you know what your number is?
won't be able to get there in time
Never could
Falling off the Earth's foreskin
Didn't know that was still there
Swimming through something that makes us ill
Kept our mouths shut
until we stick our necks out
Past the door-frame of the womb
- Max Stoltenberg
If it was that he looked in the mirror and saw nothing or that he saw something was a matter worth procrastinating or perseverating over very slowly until the next time the skeleton didn't sit down why should it point with all of its bones at the rest of everything at the conclusion of the party between the edge of the desert and the empty pool next to the overturned barbecue atop a vomited pile of dried charcoal it comes it comes to end sometimes and then it starts over unrecognizable at first and the next time until it's too late for the mirror and a part of nothing and a part of something was a matter worth was the matter with worth and value for pornographic dyads lubricated contractions slathered with a burning wind the wind that wraps the drooping shaft the posture mispronouncing gestures for no one for everybody and we leave it at until they bring up again tomorrow making thicker lenses and thinner solutions deciphering codes and destroying connections
she had gotten her head stuck in the banister and rolled her eyes back and forth she whispered the words, "dishwasher staggering" as she looked down at the carpet and where it ended and the tile began remembering how it felt when she stepped there and her left foot took that sharp object objects sharper now then whatever she had almost forgotten her face her features her eyes the way she lifted her eyes and then the way she lowered them away from her until she had gotten her head stuck mistakes and useless progress and disasters had been made intentionally when she could walk around things before they disappeared swallowed by the beige blankness of what lingered beyond the fence harsh borders melting into the glass a mirror for avoidance the kind that never worked when pots and pans clamored for you attention at the bottom of your worth.
- Max Stoltenberg
And then it was nothing again
And again this was how it came out
Didn't notice it the way you wanted
Got a part of it somehow
A very little part of it
no credit left
scratching just under the top
of the socket
a cut into skin a groove of bone
a groove of behavior
patterns in the life
dwindling or going back and forth
between laughing maniacally
and silence suturing lips together
underneath the bloated fetus
overdue everything is always
so fucking overdue
looking distracted obsessed
with the long hair
hot wind blowing it around
a mirage in high definition
of never being able
to go back
and undo anything
walking alongside the one
who always knew better
until I dragged her out of the water
the hook protruding bloodily
from one of her nostrils
the one on the left I think
her left it was
baited with fake commonality
fucked by the vapid universal
emptiness ignores us
waiting it all out
until we have wasted our
final putrid breath
darkness grows in annoyance
of the clicking on and off
after the Sun and the light switch
brains chirp on the rock
eroding into the desert
of my insomnia
- Max Stoltenberg
Couldn't recall to you or tell you when it dried up or when it became what you were after or thought you were after and you were after it much more after it or way later than you have given thought to and it has been arranged or worked out or bled through a sheet of paper stuck to a mirror in that room they can never seem to cool down with all those mirrors and the fans that haven't spun in years or pretended to move to even hover just hanging about over that one the one with the pen shaking in his hand scribbling on a thin pad of sticky notes yellow with fearfulness skepticism he calls it but it's really terror of having to answer for it or recognize that she sits behind him if he would just turn around and see her legs the ones that move even less than the fan blades just hanging about over that one the one with the pen shaking in his hand scribbling and grinding his hesitation wondering if any wonder can be flossed out and conjure a little thread of blood of past humor about the tissue of lies and he uses his fingers and a gentle cleanser for bringing forth or out an application when they used to spell it out when there were still walls or doors closed for meetings of personal touches of accidental contact didn't see you there or the original one who divided my attention between the above and below tendencies rendering me stuck.
She is looking over your shoulder for nonsense to reappear and roll her eyes and her skirt she keeps a copy in her breast that is left for scrambling for ideas baked outside in the searing walk thought I parked it there have nothing to listen anymore and maybe can keep walking and what was that coming down out of the sky the other day an expectoration of the rest of the universe rejecting our changes in anything staying the same for us each other and mostly the times when we avoid each other's resistance to staying out of it this existence and its intrusion into the void an invasion of emptiness leave us unthought leave us now too late way later than you have given thought to and it has been arranged or worked out or bled through a sheet of paper stuck to a mirror in that room they can never seem to cool down with all those mirrors and the fans that haven't spun in years or pretended to move to even hover just hanging about over that one the one with the pen shaking in his hand scribbling on a thin pad of sticky notes yellow with fearfulness skepticism he calls it but it's really terror of having to answer for it or recognize that she sits behind him if he would just turn around and see her legs the ones that move even less than the fan blades just hanging about over that one the one with the pen shaking in his hand scribbling and grinding his hesitation wondering if any wonder can be flossed out and conjure a little thread of blood of past humor about the tissue of lies and he uses his fingers and a gentle cleanser for bringing forth or out an application when they used to spell it out when there were still walls or doors closed for meetings of personal touches of accidental contact didn't see you there or the original one who divided my attention between the above and below tendencies rendering me stuck.
The jersey the blouse swirling inside her sip puckering her lips in lack of appreciation for the thrown together at the last minute next to last minute just another minute just another damned minute plaguing the compliant marching in your head stomping the moisture the stickiness through your eyes mail forced through the slot of your evaporating interest dried up or when it became what you were after or thought you were after and you were after it much more after it or way later than you have given thought to and it has been arranged or worked out or bled through a sheet of paper stuck to a mirror in that room they can never seem to cool down with all those mirrors and the fans that haven't spun in years or pretended to move to even hover just hanging about over that one the one with the pen shaking in his hand.
- Max Stoltenberg
Temptation building blocks of time and space choicest neglect eyes watering with misery or boredom more like disappointment under the stairs squinting between the steps wiggling the railing the house the building shrugs not budging the planet was his toilet paper as he rolled down the embankment most of the grass smeared into the dry clay dissolution of the exhausted pronouncement her face at the end of the sentence forcing a smile straight line of annoyed expression out of the socket and into the corner of the mouth grinding the teeth on the other side of the mood swing see-sawing along the table tabled idea holding one's vague breath steaming up the metal on the buttons to the right of the elevator door. She forgot what floor she was on and it made a difference in her mind the direction she was heading the elevator up or down she forgot what floor she was going to and it made a difference in her mind where she was coming from when she encountered them tried to break it down for them without being insulting although she fantasized telling them all to fuck off being and how insulting it all is don't mention until I am done saying that put another way as he speaks for her moving her lips while the words collide into each other silently just under the roof of her mouth not much beneath the surface pools cloudy with plans squinting between steps out of sequence for extinguishing oneself.
"What are you looking at?" she asked him.
"The TV," he answered her.
"It's off," she said getting up to crumple up another Pop Tart wrapper and sitting back down to stop herself.
"I'm looking at the darkness," he said trying to talk himself into staying put and conceding to another glass of warm water and then forcing himself to go to the freezer for a couple cubes of ice.
"What does the darkness make you think of?" she asked him turning on the fan on the table and realizing it isn't facing her and as she turns it a bug is spit out from between the plastic blades.
"It makes me think of the patterns on the bathroom floor while I was sitting on the can," he answered her remembering how the fish had churned in his stomach the night before or the night before that when he had the nightmare about the bar stools fighting with each other in the kitchen and how he wasn't sure if it was their kitchen and everyone stood there and did nothing and could criticize even though he knew he too enjoyed the crash of the wood.
"You shit on the floor?" she asked him knowing that of the three: guilt, nausea, and fish - nausea was the most prominent.
"Yes, I shit on the floor and attempted to analyze the patterns of wine and bent conjugation," he proposed not on a single knee.
"Bent what? If it makes you feel any better," she began to say in an enthusiasm that feigned no matter no matter as the side of the index finger caressed the cheese grater.
"No, I didn't shit on the floor. What?" he answered and asked.
"What?" she asked and also acted as though she had not heard what he said or cared about anything he had to say at least the latter was true.
"What were you going to say?" he asked her waffling between how many flushes was it? 3 or 4?
"I was going to say that I don't care if you shit on the floor," she answered almost talking about her private decay when she had decided that geometry was too graphic.
"Now you're saying that because of your apathy or because you think it's not that bad a thing once in a lonely while or because you were scrolling and your thumb accidentally gave too much weight to that option of course it was your apathy," he told her as he looked at the napkin convinced the stain reminded him of that presumptuous asshole from the graveyard shift at hospital no just the graveyard.
"I hate when that happens with the scrolling."
Diseased feet following you
to your next opportunity
taking you objecting
taking to you and whining
about this and about that
perhaps we journey
who are we kidding
when we look in the mirror
and at who?
who is that?
don't ask don't expect me
to know
On the rides we took
into the wasteland
filled with expectations
burst balloons of recognition
unregarded barking
nibbling at her
the ends of her hair
the ends of her
and how she managed
when she was heard
ignorant reflection
look at it
the thing with the blank look
taking off the spectacles
and rubbing your face
until she drowns
- Max Stoltenberg
