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Pulling on the tag ripping another tear in the back of the shirt stop there's a tag and its directions can't read them must read them stop there's a tag lost hold of it and its directions can't read them can't make them out making out there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her not this this voice this is a voice the sound tapping on the glass reflecting that tree there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her not this this voice pulling on the tag ripping another tear in the back of the shirt stop there's a tag and its directions can't read them must read them stop there's a tag lost hold of it and its directions can't read them can't make them out making out there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her?
Have become so manageable fuck what's on the inside gets blown away from off the top before the ride is over what a cut remember before you forget to use a condiment say what the day is and maybe maybe recall dinner or was it lunch lunch lost that remember recall what you do what have you done what have you become have become so manageable fuck what's on the inside gets blown away from off the top before the ride is over what a cut remember before you forget to use a condiment say what the day is and maybe maybe recall dinner or was it lunch lunch lost that remember recall what you do what have you done what have you become have become so manageable.
Came across her and coming to my senses asked her no told her of the storage facility a building with windows that looked upon metal doors that rolled down to shoulders where hair hands once tangled into children so much more so much more articulate than me came across her and coming to my senses told her no asked her where she was coming from and she said, "Divorced."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's a good thing."
Have become so manageable fuck what's on the inside gets blown away from off the top before the ride is over what a cut remember before you forget to use a condiment say what the day is and maybe maybe recall dinner or was it lunch lunch lost that remember recall what you do what have you done what have you become have become so manageable fuck what's on the inside gets blown away from off the top before the ride is over what a cut remember before you forget to use a condiment say what the day is and maybe maybe recall dinner or was it lunch lunch lost that remember recall what you do what have you done what have you become have become so manageable.
Came across her and coming to my senses asked her no told her of the storage facility a building with windows that looked upon metal doors that rolled down to shoulders where hair hands once tangled into children so much more so much more articulate than me came across her and coming to my senses told her no asked her where she was coming from and she said, "Divorced."
"And that's a good thing?"
"No, the asshole had to make it such a prolonged nightmare of unending torture."
Pulling on the tag ripping another tear in the back of the shirt stop there's a tag and its directions can't read them must read them stop there's a tag lost hold of it and its directions can't read them can't make them out making out there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her not this this voice this is a voice the sound tapping on the glass reflecting that tree there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her not this this voice pulling on the tag ripping another tear in the back of the shirt stop there's a tag and its directions can't read them must read them stop there's a tag lost hold of it and its directions can't read them can't make them out making out there was that tree against it against her why why did things end up against her?
- Max Stoltenberg
Shouted at
Show it
From behind a dark table
Vodka with testicles
Cutting board unwashed
Pulling the drapery
across the trash can
opening coughing up
it's up for grabs
so they say
from behind the dark table
show it
shouted at
dislodged eye of a cat
cracked electrical outlet
flip the switch and everything
is submerged beneath the demands
shouted at
show it
from behind the dark table
vodka with testicles
cutting board unwashed
shaded grass under a bench
striped with harsh chuckling
flip the switch and everything
is submerged beneath the demands
bush caulked by fucking smirks
Pulling the drapery
across the trash can
opening coughing up
it's up for grabs
so they say
obsequious candlelight
collapses beneath scummy nostrils
it's up for grabs
so they say
- Max Stoltenberg
Gave gave it gave it a gave it a label gave it a sticker for acting as if it needs no further wondering wondering what wondering what that wondering wondering wondering what wondering what that wondering what that crap is hanging out of that wooden pole stretched across the fallen tree spread over a dark red dress crumpled over broken pale legs drizzled over sand and splinters. Don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms and after especially after what you did he won't let go of it while he wants very much for you to let go of him don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from beneath what has been determined as flat the tone of the voice just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from beneath a flat tone of voice keep it down remember that's all you will ever remember is to keep it down don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms and after especially after what you did he won't let go of it while he wants very much for you to let go of him don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from what has been determined as flat your feet your feet are flat an air of speech an air of pressure an air of pressured speech presses its offensive on the air dead air not not good not good enough to be dead on arrival had to arrive had to show up flat squeezed out between the east and the west that meet on the bridge of the nose attempting to close over flat feet just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from under flat feet just a hint given a hint gave gave it gave it a gave it a label gave it a sticker for acting as if it needs no further wondering wondering what wondering what that wondering wondering wondering what wondering what that wondering what that crap is hanging out.
A smaller pond.
Where?
A smaller pond. You need a smaller pond.
A smaller pond. You need a vehicle to get to a smaller pond.
A smaller pond is what I'm talking about.
A vehicle is what I'm talking about. One of my feet hurt. I'd walk on to see which it is but I don't want to leave you behind or maybe I do. I had worked on a speech for when we part company or company parts us. Or it was an anecdote I found myself in the desert with some animal droppings.
You found the anecdote by yourself in the desert?
I find myself in the desert with some animal droppings.
It takes all kinds of droppings to find oneself.
I don't think I could identify whose droppings they were. There were seeds in the dung probably narrative seeds. Its when it comes to mind not unlike the time that fellow passing through on his way to some auction or execution was it when it comes to mind that his horse he came in on decides to take a dump. Hard to concentrate on narrative seeds when you can't get the stench out of the anecdote.
Did you eventually find out?
Did I eventually find out what?
Did you eventually find out which foot hurt?
That's right. I did make mention of my feet. Funny how only a few sentences back can get themselves buried in the dark of the closet until someone presses on the clutter. What a noise it makes not unlike the rattle of a skeleton. Have you ever played the xylophone?
I think you mean the marimba.
I thought that's where people kept their boats parked.
That's a marina.
Marina? Marina. I once knew a woman named Marina. And no she did not have a lot of others dock their boats around her. Although I've always wondered why she never made our relationship a priority.
Probably a professional.
She did work in advertising. People were always mistaking her for someone else. Their need to be in the proximity of significance.
Is that what pulled you in?
No. I ruled that out from the beginning. Just didn't expect the end to follow so quickly.
I'm sorry.
Oh, that's all right. Didn't expect another beginning to follow the end so quickly after that.
Another beginning?
Rather on and off.
Not unlike a fluorescent tube blinking.
That's precisely what was in my mind.
You don't say. Quite a phenomenon when metaphors are shared.
I was being literal. My brain blinks on and off.
As in the cinema?
Except it's in my skull. I've spent most of my life in the dark.
Just what I thought.
No, that's just what I thought.
No, I mean I thought that looked like a store off in the distance and now that we've gotten closer it's obvious it has been burned to a crisp.
You need to work on your expectations.
There's an idea. I could imagine a crater next time.
I wasn't suggesting in terms of destruction.
Does it matter? It is not unlike a broken volume dial that you keep turning and turning failing to change how you're receiving things. And and that wasn't her name at all. It wasn't Marina.
What was she called?
What was she called? She wasn't a name. She was a phenomenon. More a part of nature than I would ever be. I have an anecdote where we took the car to the sea . . .
To the sea?
To the seafood stand. However . . .
However?
However, I think we took the car, but it might have been after the car.
After the car?
And the brick wall. So I think we took the train.
The train?
The bus.
You took the bus instead of the train.
Took the train to the bus to the seafood stand.
Picked up yourself some lobster?
Crab. It would have been crab but this was after the seafood stand fell off the bridge. Not just post-brick wall. Remember.
Remember?
Remember that's all you will ever remember is to keep it down don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms and after especially after what you did he won't let go of it while he wants very much for you to let go of him don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from what has been determined as flat your feet your feet are flat an air of speech an air of pressure an air of pressured speech presses its offensive on the air dead air not not good not good enough to be dead on arrival had to arrive had to show up flat squeezed out between the east and the west that meet on the bridge.
On the bridge?
Of the nose. Somewhat nasal that speech. It was a speech after all and not an anecdote.
Was it anecdotal in any way?
Quite an audience.
Animate or inanimate?
Inanimate. I complained about the ironies of their design features and begrudged them their not having a stake in the outcome.
A smaller pond.
Where?
A smaller pond. You need a smaller pond.
When?
Thought it would be sooner rather than later what with there being less.
Why?
A smaller pond. You need a smaller pond.
Remember that's all you will ever remember is to keep it down don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms and after especially after what you did he won't let go of it while he wants very much for you to let go of him don't try to lift him don't try to take him in your arms just a hint given a hint of the planet disappearing from what has been determined as flat your feet your feet are flat an air of speech an air of pressure an air of pressured speech presses its offensive on the air dead air not not good not good enough to be dead on arrival had to arrive had to show up flat squeezed out between the east and the west that meet on the bridge
of the nose.
- Max Stoltenberg
She isn't looking at the eyes that have been looking for her for her eyes her eyes are colored in her gaze is off somewhere else she isn't looking she isn't seeing what is what is it that was being done on the sly for whose attention whose mistreatment of the details that brought a couple of stories together by a cold rusty metal railing between the sea left to evaporate in neglect and hair that is scribbled on the wind where she isn't looking at the eyes that have been looking for her eyes for her colored in eyes to color outside the lines do not cross any eyes do not cross any lines leaving it to scratch along in the dirt cut into the Earth a coloring book used up and hidden in a stack of unwanted material. She isn't looking at the eyes that have been looking for her eyes her colored in eyes to color outside the lines do not cross any eyes do not cross any lines leaving it to scratch along alone in the dirt cutting a bloodless wound into the Earth a coloring book used up and hidden in a stack of unwanted material where is she looking she isn't looking where she is where she isn't looking where is the alarm that keeps going off over by the lamp off somewhere else she isn't looking she isn't seeing what is what is it that was being done on the sly for whose attention whose mistreatment of the details that brought a couple of stories together by a cold rusty metal railing between the sea left to evaporate in neglect and hair that is scribbled on the wind where she isn't looking.
Zoffsky watched the long line of people standing in the tunnel as another fluorescent tube began to blink off and on and off and on and off and on and off.
And on and off.
Schlemazel tapped Zoffsky on the shoulder.
And on and off.
Schlemazel tapped Zoffsky on the shoulder again.
Zoffsky looked up at the ceiling and noticed the blinking fluorescent tube. "What is with this light now?" he asked in annoyance.
"Probably not screwed in properly," suggested Schlemazel.
"I do concur," answered Zoffsky.
"You do, huh? I was talking about your head," muttered Schlemazel.
"My what?"
"Your head you vestigial limb. It's probably not screwed in properly."
"Well, isn't that nice? I suppose I can count you among one of my well-wishers."
"Not even that many."
"Draw a line through your name must I?"
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You respond to a blinking light rather than my tapping."
"It's like that and stool softeners. They're my #2 priority."
"You think you have a leg to stand on?"
And on and off.
And on and off.
Schlemazel tapped Zoffsky on the shoulder again and said, "There. I'm tapping you again."
"Stop that."
"I will not."
"You will not?"
"I have to create an asymmetry."
"What do you mean an asymmetry?"
"An imbalance then. I'm trying to create an imbalance."
"What for?"
"If life is balance then it ends up cancelling me out."
"What about see-saws?"
"What about them?"
Zoffsky stands there quietly thinking and then looks up at the blinking light.
And on and off.
Schlemazel tapped Zoffsky on the shoulder again.
"What?" asked Zoffsky angrily as he scanned the line of people in the tunnel to locate in his mind the least attractive person.
And on and off.
"What do you make of that?" asked Schlemazel pointing at the line of people in the tunnel.
"Like rats leaving a sinking ship."
"But they're getting on."
"Then like rats getting on a sinking ship."
"How do you know it's a ship?"
"I don't. Do you have something in mind?"
"If we work with a choice A through D then which choice should we have it be?"
"Let's make it be choice B. I always liked the letter B as in blimp or bonehead."
"Blastula."
"Blimp blimp."
"This sounds conclusive. We'll make it choice B."
"Wait a moment. A. I really like the letter A as in ass stupid horse's ass."
"Yes, I like that, too. Horse's ass."
"So what answer is choice A?"
"I don't will be choice A. Now what do we want to be choice B? I would like to go with lemon for choice B or erect mathematician."
"Erect mathematician? Where do you get that?"
"Choice B. Now what do you want to make choice C?"
"All of the above is very large in my brain."
"All of the above?"
"Hang myself for choice C. Yeah, hang myself."
"Hang myself?"
"Shoot myself."
"Shoot myself?"
"Hang myself. Pick what you want for choice D."
"I tend to lean towards none of the above."
"What was the question?"
"When I was in school and finally and I don't mean finally maneuvered to where I could start focusing on what I wanted to do for a living the teacher asked what got in the way of imagination and creativity. I jumped up and answered clearly vague generalities. He responded with a big smirk on his face and said that's exactly right. I felt as if I was with something finally and I don't mean finally. Then he asked us to give form to this thing for an exercise and I went blank like someone leaving an empty box in the pantry. I looked around at the other students to see if anyone else was struggling like me and kept going back and forth between that and trying to think of how to give form to this thing. There were one or two ideas but they were ripped into pieces before I could pull them up or out. I didn't want to be selected as others were chosen or chose to go with their ideas. And then there was no one left to go. I heard the teacher call my name. I looked at the teacher's shoes and felt my words coil around them as the shreds of ideas coiled around my own feet and the awkwardness was pulling me back down among the rubble so all I could do was sit down in the tatters and smell of my own failure. The teacher paused and commented, Thank you for that example of vague generalities. I feebly joked by saying, That's all I've got. And the teacher retorted, I'm fairly certain of that."
"Where do you think the line ends?"
"Right about there."
"That's where it looks like it begins."
And on and off.
And on and off.
She isn't looking at the eyes that have been looking for her for her eyes her eyes are colored in her gaze is off somewhere else she isn't looking she isn't seeing what is what is it that was being done on the sly for whose attention whose mistreatment of the details that brought a couple of stories together by a cold rusty metal railing between the sea left to evaporate in neglect and hair that is scribbled on the wind where she isn't looking at the eyes that have been looking for her eyes for her colored in eyes to color outside the lines do not cross any eyes do not cross any lines leaving it to scratch along in the dirt cut into the Earth a coloring book used up and hidden in a stack of unwanted material. She isn't looking.
- Max Stoltenberg
Eyes roll in a pool of fog and chlorine what the hell is that in the overturned cup all for naughtiness dominoes in burned pasta come at it with a blade already dripping with medicine rupturing on a steaming tongue searching for an elusive swallow of water applauding only to try to smash a gnat and watch it ascend away from spectacles following now following for now patterns of alternating cracks and fingerprint smudges all before eyes eyes roll in a pool of fog and chlorine what the hell is that in the overturned cup all for naughtiness dominoes in burned pasta come at it with a blade already dripping with medicine rupturing on a steaming tongue searching for an elusive swallow of water applauding only to try to smash a gnat and watch it ascend away from spectacles following now following for now.
Lagging ahead dust piles up inside the lines shapes of the contemporary tomorrow blurring into the old passed out on a slug's slime trail next to the fractured portraiture hung over riding a dune that's not right riding a wave a wave of the dune that's not right held over for some period of time
"How insightful."
Lagging ahead dust piles up inside
"Same thing coming around the bend once more."
"Didn't notice a bend."
Lagging ahead dust piles up inside the lines shapes of the contemporary tomorrow blurring
"Hold on. My turn with that."
"That should be no problem with being held over and waves of dunes of waves overriding periods."
"Overriding periods?"
"Periods of time that is."
"Periods of time lagging ahead."
Bloody punctuation marks skidding across as it all elapses lagging ahead dust piles up inside the lines shapes of the contemporary tomorrow blurring into the old passed out on a slug's slime trail next to the fractured portraiture hung over riding a dune that's not right riding a wave a wave of the dune that's not right held over for some
"For some . . . go on."
"For some time."
"Is that how you're consolidating it now?"
"Consolidating?"
"Another one of your reductionisms."
"Reductionisms. I used to have those when I had a small opinion on a subject or when I could manage to find an unfinished cigar and my lighter before it ran out of fluid my efforts were reduced to ashes."
"That pretty much sums up your life."
"And that would be one of your reductionisms."
"And I would be correct."
"Ashes are for building reductionisms."
"That wouldn't necessarily knock off that interviewer's fishing hat."
"Who's fishing hat?"
"The interviewer's. We've been over this."
"I don't doubt we've been over this, but what interviewer are you referring to?"
"The guy who stepped out from behind the bushes when we descended into the wash."
"We came into this world descending and it hasn't let up since."
"You know which bushes I'm talking about. We both commented regarding how many there were and how thick they were even with so little rain no rain in fact and this guy kind of tall comes out from behind those thick bushes and he pulls out a microphone from under his fishing hat and starts interviewing us."
"I know which bushes you're talking about and you don't know what bushes I'm thinking of."
"I couldn't give him any satisfactory answers because during most of the interview I was distracted by whether or not his microphone cord was attached to anything."
"Just when I start identifying her patterns her themes only then she fades out of my memory and her smell was the first aspect to disappear so quickly it disappeared without a trace."
"I thought I'd catch a glimpse of the end of his microphone cord plugged into nothing lying on the naked dirt but no I was sidetracked by his questions trying to follow the microphone cord as it wrapped around one of the larger weeds moving myself to get a better angle not finding where it plugged in not finding the end of it."
"That's why many times I'd fall behind when we walked and until she'd realize I wasn't beside her my falling behind allowed the wind if there was one to blow the smell of her into me and her dress when she wore one she had a lot of pants would flap like I was on the deck of on the top of over a surface below that's not right below surface that's not right never been imagined it sometimes."
"Imagined what?"
"Imagined it sometimes. You imagined it. The interviewer and his microphone and his questions."
"I did not imagine it."
"The Sun. It's been getting to you."
"Sure, blame it on the Sun."
"Sooner or later the Sun gets to you gets to all of us. Its story its narrative is so absorbing. Gives us life. Warms our stone cold core until it burns us away and prolongs this deep fried thin existence until a couple billion years later it'll eventually engulf us all so much for trying to make sure books are kept from the flames."
"I didn't imagine it."
"You didn't imagine what?"
"The guy who stepped out."
"The only guy you saw stepping out was me after I took a shit."
"I didn't know you had it in you."
"That was a long time ago now. I don't have it in me anymore."
"And there we have it. Any hint of a road is far behind us. The wash continues on like the microphone cord not finding the end of it until the impression it makes in the terrain disappears as the paths we took erased still I thought I'd catch a glimpse of it moving myself to get a better angle not finding where it plugged in not finding the end of it."
Come at it with a blade already dripping with medicine rupturing on a steaming tongue searching for an elusive swallow of water applauding only to try to smash a gnat and watch it ascend away from spectacles following now following for now patterns of alternating cracks and fingerprint smudges all before eyes eyes roll in a pool of fog and chlorine what the hell is that in the overturned cup all for naughtiness dominoes in burned pasta come at it with a blade already dripping with medicine rupturing on a steaming tongue searching for an elusive swallow of water applauding only to try to smash a gnat and watch it ascend away from spectacles following now following for now.
- Max Stoltenberg
Rock to trip over
Small enough for heaviness
Put upon more than its level
Haven't disappeared
In a fashion for their fashion
A bald person in the mirror
Outlined with a dagger
Cold metal from a look
Over a wooden railing
Stars squint over those rotting
While they think their thoughts
Thinking their thoughts
into a downward spiral
It'll probably break
this time
when flushed again
Fly zipping about
Useless shit
Brought to the forefront
How did it get there?
Zipping up
before the laughter starts again
Fingers whisper across shoulders
strapped for desperation
pillows of white noise
surrounding
surrounding
Make a point
Make some point
Some point
made
a deep hole
through a mind
Thinking their thoughts
under the drip pan
drip drip
Thinking their thoughts
Stars squint over those rotting
While they think their thoughts
Thinking their thoughts
into a downward spiral
It'll probably break
this time
when flushed again
- Max Stoltenberg
The bottle had no message had no cork had no color had no had no water to float in only suffering to see right through it and on towards the barfed up empty canvas a tasteless wafer thin portion of the world eating itself with every crunching of the dry wind the bottle rolled rolled over sand time had no patience for what was trying to re-enter slowly slowly less than slowly less than that less than that broken pieces of unidentifiable things what is there what is not there nothing is looked at trash hills to be glazed over accumulated by what had to have in a thick scum layer of ought to be dumped.
Nuts brittle on a small branch with sharp spines castrating the air cloudy with dust curling over dull refuse parts and shreds of tangles and confusions misused baggage lost on carton flow stacks of the drab rollers spinning lobes of evaporated flat vision screening out filters and more unidentifiable things what is there what is not there nothing is looked at trash hills to be glazed over accumulated by what had to have in a thick scum layer of ought to be dumped.
Continuing with the infected area natural or so it seems natural to what exactly naturally purple that is what things unidentifiable things look like when they change to purple as well as other muted shades of silence where so much decaying into each other bumps into all aspects of everything every unidentifiable thing bumping and turning against each other smudging ashen purple the makeup of the inanimate. Always old. The world was always old shelved in the assisted living corner of one of the bottom tier universes shitting on itself.
- Max Stoltenberg
