IT WASN'T

It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned somewhere in the muffled whispers of confused thoughts that an asphalt rug was being rolled out over so many others their voices could not be distinguished from the glaring silence.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned that it had never dawned on any somewhere anywhere.  So much ado about one immense false start.  Just forget it.  That's what they said at all those points that had stopped working strung together with a whole lot of nothing.  There was coughing.  There was that shit.  And there was that as well.  It wasn't when the lights went out.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned somewhere in the muffled whispers of confused thoughts that an asphalt rug was being rolled out over so many others their voices could not be distinguished from the glaring silence.  All the music was gone.  Replaced by the sludge in the throat tightening to flush it all down.  It had suddenly dawned that it had never dawned on any somewhere anywhere.

"What is she?"

It wasn't how they looked when they let go and gave the impression that they weren't sure.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't how certain they appeared how absolute the separation spread and was sucked into their face like cocoa butter into dry red skin and was engulfed by their blue eyes.  It wasn't how they looked when they let go and gave the impression that they weren't sure.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't how certain they appeared or how anything appeared or how uncertain any impression scratched the surface certainly not the first one but then again the others they've made their appearances just keep mentioning those or don't.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't have been that.

"What is she doing now?"

It wasn't because of a withdrawing that the sand on the edge of that cliff spilled out from between their toes.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't possibly have been that.  Have to always look around for a window?  Do they?  Find some hole in the dark clouds?  Do they?  Have to skin their knuckles writing with that rock in the asphalt rug?  Do they?  Marking that spot with that X that marks the spot?  Do they?  It wasn't the having or not having?  It wasn't that.  It couldn't possibly have been that.  It couldn't possibly have been having been wrapped up in it.  That one little patch of skin that hasn't been eaten away yet.  Just underneath the flow and the just forget it they kept going on about just underneath it carries all those microscopic particles of existence all those teeth taking more bites out.  It wasn't that.  It wasn't because of a withdrawing that the sand on the edge of that cliff spilled out from between their toes.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't possibly have been that.

"What is she doing now?"
"Seeing another asshole."

It wasn't.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned somewhere in the muffled whispers of confused thoughts that an asphalt rug was being rolled out over so many others their voices could not be distinguished from the glaring silence.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned that it had never dawned on any somewhere anywhere.  So much ado about one immense false start.  Just forget it.  That's what they said at all those points that had stopped working strung together with a whole lot of nothing.  There was coughing.  There was that shit.  And there was that as well.  It wasn't when the lights went out.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned somewhere in the muffled whispers of confused thoughts that an asphalt rug was being rolled out over so many others their voices could not be distinguished from the glaring silence.  All the music was gone.  Replaced by the sludge in the throat tightening to flush it all down.  It had suddenly dawned that it had never dawned on any somewhere anywhere.  All the music was gone disappeared into the Earth and leaked out very sluggishly in a grinding and a groaning drowning out the wind passing through the trees.  

"What is she doing now?"
"Seeing another asshole."
"Let's just forget it."
"He said continuing to look through the binoculars," he said continuing to recall his latest nightmare of finding himself in the backseat of his aunt's car holding himself as an infant with diarrhea and the vehicle has somehow crashed into a wall of cancerous cells inside the dying pancreas of his grandmother.
"That's a good idea.  Instead you can finish that story about the depressed astronaut who volunteers for the space expedition to find and go into a black hole."
"He finds a black hole in his throat."
"Fuck you, man.  What is she doing now?"
"Seeing another horror film."

That's what they said at all those points that had stopped working strung together with a whole lot of nothing.  There was coughing.  There was that shit.  And there was that as well.  It wasn't when the lights went out.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned somewhere in the muffled whispers of confused thoughts that an asphalt rug was being rolled out over so many others their voices could not be distinguished from the glaring silence.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it was then that was so apparent how so many bodies disappeared.  It wasn't that.  It couldn't have possibly been how they did it.  Was that when?  It couldn't have been that.  It wasn't when the lights went out that it suddenly dawned that it had never dawned on any somewhere anywhere.  So much ado about one immense false start.  Just forget it.


- Max Stoltenberg