Making for the distraction almost there stuck to concentration on the dark spot on the carpet that time you watched the man put his foot in it the one wearing the blue dark blue shirt like the shirt you have you wore when it was you who stepped into it. The chase to get the bus before the light changes as the dark clouds break up and the Sun on her face those eyes blinking as she finds it harder for herself to breathe. The building is paying no attention even though he wants it to look at him and know about his reservations regarding missing dinner for as long as he was in the barren expanse that grew between work and the place where he was evicted no he just forgot where he lived and the time expected to clock in got a little longer that day.
to the tollbooth
close your mouth
the doubts still banging on the door
inside your head
close that as well
long time ago it was
needle threaded and the street
is slanting towards my anxiety
over the limit
burning in my stomach
blankets sticking to human food
left over night
going bad
and still chewed on
sheltered by their intestines
passing through never passing
just passing through
- Max Stoltenberg
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
Sunday, June 25, 2017
DESERT CRACKERS
She held the crumpled up water bottle caked with dirt and other decay like the steering wheel of a car she might never have had who knew who asked who cared? Who bothered? Many bothered bothered her, but not about anything pertaining to her travels and her many imprisonments her pauses her stucknesses the reasoning of those who bothered her those who never bothered about anything else pertaining to her only to their appetite for appetites.
Where did she imagine she was going or doing or where she thought she was? A ruined village that was more underneath the Earth or elsewhere she was reaching somewhere the point where she wouldn't have to know if she was going again. Skin had its way for others to have theirs and with it being broken so many times you'd think it would reach that point but it always knows when the rest of it all slithers nearby around the cracked toilet of someone's mind.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"I thought you've been sick for some time."
"I have just I'm going to be really sick."
"Then say really sick why don't you? I mean really."
"Do you? Really? Seeing to it that you overuse terms doesn't make you the measure of sincerity."
"Bend over."
"I was thinking about that not that vomiting."
"I was recommending it for both."
"I could turn around and throw up on you and watch if any industrial acid burns a crater into your crotch."
"Zombie fantasy #116?"
"#86. I'm still counting on my next diabetic seizure to take me out before I get into the triple digits, but with this heat, I think I'm too late for that."
Fracture and terse
menagerie of affairs
cognitive extinctions
within the enclosures of your skull
citations slice the tongue
taste is lost in a red sea
of forgetfulness and monotony
from study to anecdote
alternating opportunism
clothes become coffins
in the unpaved morgue
- Max Stoltenberg
Where did she imagine she was going or doing or where she thought she was? A ruined village that was more underneath the Earth or elsewhere she was reaching somewhere the point where she wouldn't have to know if she was going again. Skin had its way for others to have theirs and with it being broken so many times you'd think it would reach that point but it always knows when the rest of it all slithers nearby around the cracked toilet of someone's mind.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"I thought you've been sick for some time."
"I have just I'm going to be really sick."
"Then say really sick why don't you? I mean really."
"Do you? Really? Seeing to it that you overuse terms doesn't make you the measure of sincerity."
"Bend over."
"I was thinking about that not that vomiting."
"I was recommending it for both."
"I could turn around and throw up on you and watch if any industrial acid burns a crater into your crotch."
"Zombie fantasy #116?"
"#86. I'm still counting on my next diabetic seizure to take me out before I get into the triple digits, but with this heat, I think I'm too late for that."
Fracture and terse
menagerie of affairs
cognitive extinctions
within the enclosures of your skull
citations slice the tongue
taste is lost in a red sea
of forgetfulness and monotony
from study to anecdote
alternating opportunism
clothes become coffins
in the unpaved morgue
- Max Stoltenberg
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
FELLED IN ONE SWOOP
Abnormal neck pulsing between breaths all through the breath really surreally so informal taking your time and pissing it away not as how should we say it put it? not as streamlined as before along the lines of flaccid arcs dripping down into the holes spluttering against the plastic before leaking into the holes wandering to the edge in a stream of consciousness along the lines of flaccid arcs dripping down sweat burning a head one is beginning at the nearly finished to believe has never been clear a dream given up on broken promises disillusioned so that's what was in my eye all this pissed away time.
"You should do a better job of checking your sources."
"I'd say I'd keep that in mind, but that's all my brain's been clogged with."
"You'd think you'd learn by now, but you even make matters worse by deleting your posts."
"I'm getting it. I'm just deleting myself."
"Nothing to be spun."
"My spectacles are cleaner than I thought. There's a smear in the air."
"A proctologist and a fan walked into a bar."
"I've heard this one, no wait the proctologist walked in with a follower or the appliance?"
"They were wearing appliances."
"You sure it wasn't an orthodontist?"
"I'm certain. The fixtures were in their other hole."
"Walking arm in arm?"
"Brazen as the day is skid-marked."
"I've heard that one."
"Relentless bastard."
"A blender and a surgeon were riding one of those bicycles with the extra seats."
"Are you referring to spawning families with additional women or the fish?"
"Did you think I said sturgeon? Your ears must be filled after that last dust storm we had."
"A moment of weakness when that last one whirled through here. I considered asking for wishes. I forget how many one gets like it really matters. Weakness it was. Did look like quite a dervish escaping the desert although it just faded blended into this infernal nether just imagined what it might be like to see something anything escaping."
"We've discussed this imagining business."
"Business there was a lot of that getting stuck in my eye."
Two minds of two
associations on both sides
separated by an axis
a fence threaded with razors
chills and scorching
stumbling under the bright sun
clearing one's throat
and swallowing nonsense
chunks clumping
into another illness
feel it coming on
the aches of thoughts
repeating like poison
laced with spoon-fed phrases
- Max Stoltenberg
"You should do a better job of checking your sources."
"I'd say I'd keep that in mind, but that's all my brain's been clogged with."
"You'd think you'd learn by now, but you even make matters worse by deleting your posts."
"I'm getting it. I'm just deleting myself."
"Nothing to be spun."
"My spectacles are cleaner than I thought. There's a smear in the air."
"A proctologist and a fan walked into a bar."
"I've heard this one, no wait the proctologist walked in with a follower or the appliance?"
"They were wearing appliances."
"You sure it wasn't an orthodontist?"
"I'm certain. The fixtures were in their other hole."
"Walking arm in arm?"
"Brazen as the day is skid-marked."
"I've heard that one."
"Relentless bastard."
"A blender and a surgeon were riding one of those bicycles with the extra seats."
"Are you referring to spawning families with additional women or the fish?"
"Did you think I said sturgeon? Your ears must be filled after that last dust storm we had."
"A moment of weakness when that last one whirled through here. I considered asking for wishes. I forget how many one gets like it really matters. Weakness it was. Did look like quite a dervish escaping the desert although it just faded blended into this infernal nether just imagined what it might be like to see something anything escaping."
"We've discussed this imagining business."
"Business there was a lot of that getting stuck in my eye."
Two minds of two
associations on both sides
separated by an axis
a fence threaded with razors
chills and scorching
stumbling under the bright sun
clearing one's throat
and swallowing nonsense
chunks clumping
into another illness
feel it coming on
the aches of thoughts
repeating like poison
laced with spoon-fed phrases
- Max Stoltenberg
Friday, May 26, 2017
LEVEL DOWN
And after that overly long and unnecessary introduction more like preheating for the customary 6 or so minutes, you think that it might be strange or appropriate to mention or keep to oneself much in the manner of pushing your own face inside out recalling when you were little and would play with your socks and roll them into a fabric donut stop scratching my head making it burn feel like sharp bugs and their hypodermic legs strolling through the thoughts the contemplations that draw blood and try in vain to put it back dried out brush forcing itself upon a wall sucking up to indecision and retractions.
He went into the field where the field used to be to meet with the administrative assistant who was so good at alphabetizing and reversing the direction of time in regards to emails and still managed to get the edges of her nails catching on sweater sleeves fuck hate when that happens and seek absolution in watching slower and slower slow motion videos of water balloons colored liquid holding it together as membranes fail so quickly in the smallest spans returning from the room with the shredder before anyone notices the extra folders missing waited too long to put it down and now it's gone don't think much of it dehydrated conversation burning lips on windows that close doors on the field that used to be.
the sky has been dark
where did the day go
way up into the ass
of the universe
calling it that hasn't helped
where we end
trying to extend it
by some jerking it off
making whatever longer
where we end
is nothing
nothing but our carbon monoxide
- Max Stoltenberg
He went into the field where the field used to be to meet with the administrative assistant who was so good at alphabetizing and reversing the direction of time in regards to emails and still managed to get the edges of her nails catching on sweater sleeves fuck hate when that happens and seek absolution in watching slower and slower slow motion videos of water balloons colored liquid holding it together as membranes fail so quickly in the smallest spans returning from the room with the shredder before anyone notices the extra folders missing waited too long to put it down and now it's gone don't think much of it dehydrated conversation burning lips on windows that close doors on the field that used to be.
the sky has been dark
where did the day go
way up into the ass
of the universe
calling it that hasn't helped
where we end
trying to extend it
by some jerking it off
making whatever longer
where we end
is nothing
nothing but our carbon monoxide
- Max Stoltenberg
Saturday, May 13, 2017
FROM IT TO THIS
Distractions and unanswered questions
Asking crushed under the chin
of the lowering face of anger
Mesmerized by pupils
disengaged and slamming fists
upon reveries and investigating
Curiosity deflated
bones to branches
muscles to weeds
the backyard of forgetfulness
She went to the sink as her phone rang and rang towards no response. Sneezing and peeing a little. Something fell down the stairs. She imagined what it might be as a voice mail kicked in. Not available after the beep a box of buttons that said something about providing everyone in the office with instructions involving fucking themselves. Applying pressure with her thumb looking at the drain and wondering about a world down there bereft of light not much darker than her own. Pushing apart a couple of slats in the window blinds coming back to this seeing the children being lined up in the desert under a sky filled with hot air balloons fragile substitutes for the spots on the glass.
"Are you done with that?"
"I've been done with it.
"Then why do you still have it?"
"It's got it's teeth in my wrist."
"So much for being conscious."
"Eyes open eyes closed it's a chore."
"You're just saying that."
"You said it."
"I just did."
"We are being annoying."
"What else is new?"
"What is banging around in the dryer?"
"Whatever was banging around before it was put in the wash."
"Too true."
"Too true is whatever we deny today that seeps back in tomorrow."
"Did you bury the cat?"
"Didn't find much left of it."
"There you go procrastinating again."
"Me? I'm the one remember who found a whisker."
"That's just an expression."
"Paw. I meant paw. Remember when I got dragged by the neighbors and their shopping cart?"
"They weren't neighbors. You said you didn't recognize any of them."
"I didn't, but I did say my memory could be on the fritz again."
"On the fritz."
"And I mentioned when they were done with me and dumped me in that storm drain that I spotted the paw? And the following day I asked you about the funeral? Do you recall what you said?"
"Something about more blood in my stools I imagine."
"There was that, yes, but I asked when we were going to dispose of bury the paw and you said you needed several weeks to work on a eulogy. It's been a tad beyond the several weeks."
"On the fritz, eh?"
"On the fritz."
"Are you done with that?"
- Max Stoltenberg
Asking crushed under the chin
of the lowering face of anger
Mesmerized by pupils
disengaged and slamming fists
upon reveries and investigating
Curiosity deflated
bones to branches
muscles to weeds
the backyard of forgetfulness
She went to the sink as her phone rang and rang towards no response. Sneezing and peeing a little. Something fell down the stairs. She imagined what it might be as a voice mail kicked in. Not available after the beep a box of buttons that said something about providing everyone in the office with instructions involving fucking themselves. Applying pressure with her thumb looking at the drain and wondering about a world down there bereft of light not much darker than her own. Pushing apart a couple of slats in the window blinds coming back to this seeing the children being lined up in the desert under a sky filled with hot air balloons fragile substitutes for the spots on the glass.
"Are you done with that?"
"I've been done with it.
"Then why do you still have it?"
"It's got it's teeth in my wrist."
"So much for being conscious."
"Eyes open eyes closed it's a chore."
"You're just saying that."
"You said it."
"I just did."
"We are being annoying."
"What else is new?"
"What is banging around in the dryer?"
"Whatever was banging around before it was put in the wash."
"Too true."
"Too true is whatever we deny today that seeps back in tomorrow."
"Did you bury the cat?"
"Didn't find much left of it."
"There you go procrastinating again."
"Me? I'm the one remember who found a whisker."
"That's just an expression."
"Paw. I meant paw. Remember when I got dragged by the neighbors and their shopping cart?"
"They weren't neighbors. You said you didn't recognize any of them."
"I didn't, but I did say my memory could be on the fritz again."
"On the fritz."
"And I mentioned when they were done with me and dumped me in that storm drain that I spotted the paw? And the following day I asked you about the funeral? Do you recall what you said?"
"Something about more blood in my stools I imagine."
"There was that, yes, but I asked when we were going to dispose of bury the paw and you said you needed several weeks to work on a eulogy. It's been a tad beyond the several weeks."
"On the fritz, eh?"
"On the fritz."
"Are you done with that?"
- Max Stoltenberg
Thursday, April 27, 2017
DRIFT LODGER
Pencil prick
bleeding inferno and what not
yet
development imposition
a churning in the chest
right behind the nipple
the right nipple
wrong body
water pneumonia
testing for belonging
in the stuck position
here to stay
the bacon is off
something in the room
is dead
has been for a while
days weeks
nights of in and out
of holes
falling back pulling muscles
bleeding inferno and what not
is shit out
into existence
to play
the role of an interruption
- Max Stoltenberg
bleeding inferno and what not
yet
development imposition
a churning in the chest
right behind the nipple
the right nipple
wrong body
water pneumonia
testing for belonging
in the stuck position
here to stay
the bacon is off
something in the room
is dead
has been for a while
days weeks
nights of in and out
of holes
falling back pulling muscles
bleeding inferno and what not
is shit out
into existence
to play
the role of an interruption
- Max Stoltenberg
Saturday, April 22, 2017
WHERE OFF
Do you think it's because of what you said what you said was the cause and it all stopped right there came to a halt nothing more to trickle out of the spigot hammered into the back of the head just above the where they asked if you wanted it cut square just above the horizon where disasters emerged from where promises delay until they are forgotten remember? what the fuck do you know? get out the chicken the pieces are small but who liked who wanted them that way
that way
It's what it said on the phone and he messed with her ruined conversations drove them into walls cornered the expressions until they didn't want to turn around why should they? why should they take the stairs down and leave the roof alone when it could be the reason for faces that stare out at the windows darkened darkening the questions out of the dead eyes burned with endings changed for a lie where everyone lives and run into each other bump into each other step over each other interrupt each other punctuate the moments that got away from them hurt each other cut each other drop each other from ledges into the previously rewound.
Unnecessary turnarounds
reasoning drowned out
by screeching tires
looping into insomnia
dreams nightmares
stuck in classrooms
on the way to classrooms
unnecessary turnarounds
another test mentioned
in the same insecure breath
with being with someone
gone debated aging
and climbing out of dumpsters
lifted over your head
dangling like aloneness
at the top of the ferris-wheel
seeking justice
as the buried
before and after the rotting
denies between blinks
- Max Stoltenberg
that way
It's what it said on the phone and he messed with her ruined conversations drove them into walls cornered the expressions until they didn't want to turn around why should they? why should they take the stairs down and leave the roof alone when it could be the reason for faces that stare out at the windows darkened darkening the questions out of the dead eyes burned with endings changed for a lie where everyone lives and run into each other bump into each other step over each other interrupt each other punctuate the moments that got away from them hurt each other cut each other drop each other from ledges into the previously rewound.
Unnecessary turnarounds
reasoning drowned out
by screeching tires
looping into insomnia
dreams nightmares
stuck in classrooms
on the way to classrooms
unnecessary turnarounds
another test mentioned
in the same insecure breath
with being with someone
gone debated aging
and climbing out of dumpsters
lifted over your head
dangling like aloneness
at the top of the ferris-wheel
seeking justice
as the buried
before and after the rotting
denies between blinks
- Max Stoltenberg
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