RICE AND FLAT NOTES

He'd say to her nothing it wouldn't arise it would feel like it was filling and then it wouldn't fill it wouldn't feel it wouldn't even think it it he'd say to her nothing and she would disappear one part at a time she'd force herself to play a part be a part a part and part herself and part he'd object and then sit there on the edge of what was her name couldn't hold numbers let alone letters let alone his toes rejected the carpet shaved to stretch as wide as the room needed to shut him into his narrow space between each care surrendering to the blankness of the present shrinking in the midst of the bickering parents of the past and the future they were still here and still now what the fuck difference did it make had they made in his tiny little shaft of a muddled statement dripping with wasted ejaculations he would

severance a new middle name
don't surname me
crumbs and petty looks
falling off the clouded reasoning
torn from angry fucks
knots in your reproductive ideas
and that's all they ended up
not being useful to smoke
rolled up into carbon paper
for burning into dying flowers
dirty water reprocessed by eyes
blinking blinking chicken
in plastic trays dealing out the 
cards unsigned unsent undying
pathetic veins of reminding wipers
rubbing ears flapping vision
into distorted phone calls
think we heard enough
before another one is started
late has arrived the hand 
held up to stop it 
stop some of it
none of it
all of it 
carries on
into the next searing day

fucking food food fucking us deep inside shit it out and call it a devouring some shit we augment only in this way ingredients for the factory minimized and shoved up our ass deep inside our reticence an itinerary for inertia loaded with crap crap cakes frosted with memories of times when recalled dragged out by nightmares and substitutions put in at the last few minutes of darkness before the glare of waking hours slapped us back onto the stage with stiff limbs for tripping over each other repeating unnecessary efforts for numbers for letters she would disappear one part at a time she'd force herself to play a part be a part a part and part herself and part he'd object and then sit there on the edge of what was her name couldn't hold numbers let alone letters let alone his toes rejected the carpet shaved to stretch as wide as the room needed to shut him into his narrow space between each care surrendering to the blankness of the present shrinking in the midst of the bickering parents of the past and the future they were still here and still now what the fuck difference did it make had they made in his tiny little shaft of a muddled statement dripping with wasted ejaculations he would

"Where did you get those?" she asked as she helped her children into the back of her minivan.
"Where did I get these?" he asked as the hot wind blew a note he had written directions on off towards the wash full of trash, weeds, and the excretions of the desert.
"Those are the blue ones. Where did you get those?" she asked closing the back door.
"I think I got them at the place right behind over there in the front along the main strip toward the back," he spoke as his mouth was somewhere else abandoning his mind that emptied of every place he had ever been.
"I don't think so. You probably got the blue ones at the end of that row around the other side. Know what I'm talking about? Never mind," she said turning the ignition and speeding away.
He looked toward the wash to see where the note might have gone where the directions might have blown off to as he walked around the back of the large metal containers and stopped as he reached the edge of the road looking down at where the dirt and sidewalk ended sort of ended and began tugging at the spiked tumbleweed stuck to his left pants leg had some gotten into his sock other sock?

Eyes opened and closed and opened at the smell of bugs and sounds of tuna fish squishing as the head moved around inside or was that paper ripped out of a hand out there outside the dark in here cans surrounded the head listening for the evening of the next darkness to catch up with the dark in here always in here opened or closed eyes opened and closed and opened at the smell of bugs and sounds of tuna fish squishing as the head moved around inside or was that paper ripped out of a hand out there outside the dark in here cans surrounded the head listening for the evening of the next darkness to catch up with the dark in here always.


- Max Stoltenberg

CAUGHT ON THE DESERT SILL

I am at a loss I don't know what to say I know exactly what to say and that is my downfall again the problem is that my downfall never takes me down far enough where I can't get back up stay down paint yourself a shade of the weeds and stand among them the weeds. Crazy going crazy crazy not going anywhere crazy going in circles crazy going in squares rectangles long thin rectangles hallways corridors of crazy couldn't sit there with him across the desk from him looking at me running out of things to draw to my attention his attention running out of things to draw my attention to his attention had to put them together you might have heard of them put them together things together and they lead right into a hole red with brown shitty smiles of forced entry the door and they don't fucking like the look you give them all day long as they pass by your door waving themselves around like the weeds they are poking their crass existence out of the ground why get back up why stay down to paint yourself a shade of the weeds and stand among them squat among them running out of things to draw my attention to his attention had to put them together you might have heard of them put them together things together and they lead right into a hole red with brown shitty smiles of forced entry the door and they don't fucking like the look you give them

as the stream pauses
in the desert of blank steps
leading up down to empty
expectations is it
was it is it hide and
don't look at her while
while she all the while
that's not right
it doesn't end right
it doesn't end
clicked on the wrong space
as the stream pauses 
in the desert of blank steps
leading up down to empty 
expectations is it
was it is it hide and
don't
just don't
a princess
where did that come from?
where did she come from?
she the that that came in
from 
where?

"I never discovered much," said the ex-girlfriend.
"How could you?" said the ex-salesman.
"How could I? I never discovered much looking away."
"I used to be a salesman until I took a hockey puck to the brain permanently damaged my sense of deception tragic end to a profitable ruse."
"When were you ever near anything frozen?"
"Before the desert everything was frozen and after the desert I'm the one who is frozen in my tracks."
"I prostrate like a sloth at the narthex of your bunions."
"In suicide I got an incomplete."
"My eyes hurt again the back of my eyes maybe all of my head except my eyes hurt up to where my eyes start in the back up to the pupils this same shit every day crawls in through the windows and tumbles into my mind and just stays and never leaves even if I burned it down the charred shit would still be there melted into the foundation and the fucking Earth takes its nauseous time chewing and swallowing."
"Turn and face the wall."
"Only if you have an actual weapon this time and I have a nasty mess on the wall I can look at before you pull the trigger."
"Trigger? Did you say trigger?"
"You didn't find something with a trigger did you?"
"Well, no."
"Figures, unless you have a blunt instrument."
"I haven't been very in favor of using a blunt instrument."
"Why not?"
"I'd have to hit you several times with my lousy upper body business and all that. I'd just be repeating myself and I might get you pissed off enough who knows what I could become next."
"You think I'd risk smashing your asshat and have you be a slimy salesman again?"
"That's a myth you know."
"Your whole life has been a myth."
"No I mean a blow to the head would make me go back to what I used to be."
"I know what you mean it was an expression I was using and the top of your head is your ass."
"That would explain why I've been trying for years to take a strong enough shit and empty out everything between my ears."

Noiseless the swamp
of rubbing my face to get the debris
from these dreams in the stinging daylight
off the sill of these eyes
putting the boxes away
until their contents go bad
tense bravado stains the mask
lifting up the garage door
delivered by hand 
to the roof of her mouth
she rolls her vision up into her head
as a man leaves deep knife marks
in her no-stick bowl
the color is divided
more contents to go bad

noiseless the swamp


- Max Stoltenberg

TRACKS OF THE MUCKRAKE

I build a prison below the ground every day so that when the earth the dirt that is caves in into the cave this cave another layer will pile on top of the layers that are already there still there after the ones have crumbled away from the talking with the other prisoners the other things that walk around having come out of their corners their boxes having doffed their lids so officious it makes one puke the dirt that is it hardens into another layer will pile on top of the layers that are already there still there after the ones have crumbled away from the talking with the other prisoners the other things that walk around having come out of their corners their boxes having doffed their lids so officious it makes one puke the dirt that is it hardens into another layer of a prison I build a prison below the ground every day so that when the earth the dirt that is caves in into the cave this cave.

Must have erased it by mistake and the floors disappeared into the desert that could be why everything is so close to the street the only front yards we have are the 3 feet of bullshit we tell ourselves to keep each other at bay shackled strangers put away put it away no one is interested sounded like you sounded like me sounded like they got it from you sounded like you got it from them could be could be nothing must be.

"She's complaining in there again."
"Who?"
"She goes in there every morning to complain. Sometimes she goes right into complaining and other times it's the other times where she goes in there and ends up complaining."
"The other times?"
"Yeah she goes in there as if complaining is the last thing she'd ever think of going in there to do. She goes in there as if she actually intended to you know relate or something or mention something even esoteric or meaningless or useless or meaningless."
"Or esoteric?"
"No it's between the last two. I've narrowed it down to them."
"You've ruled out the esoteric and the relating and the something."
"Balsamic vinegar."
"You didn't say anything about balsamic vinegar."
"One never can know about leaving out what they might have unknowingly ruled out."
"No wonder you have insomnia."
"Someone will always bring up some little shit I didn't bring up."
"And that's how you shove off the esoteric and the relating to the gutter."
"They form their cliques along the sidelines and exchange their gutter talk."
"And what about something?"
"Something? Something."
"You're reconsidering."
"Something is crap that has been labeled annoying."
"Are you going to fill out the survey?"
"How long have we been in this room?"
"Years."
"How many years?"
"I've lost track."
"Lost track have you? So have I. That's what happens when we get our subjectivity packed nice and tight into a closed space. Fill out a survey my ass."
"We lost our progress again."

Fuck something sometimes sometimes the index index finger wants to dig in the corner there is a hole in the corner of the eye to dig it out and work on the other one sometime later work on the other one that will sometimes become the only one left all these eyes entering into detention to see more of the same as they hand each other kaleidoscopes twisting their vision into being intrigued with sights that divide and spin into mirrors of each other of each other of each other face them and bow to them and face them fuck them fuck something sometimes sometimes the index index finger wants to dig in the corner there is a hole in the corner of the eye to dig it out and work on the other one sometimes later work on the other one that will sometimes become the only one left all these eyes entering into detention.

"What do you get now?"
"5."
"How do you get 5?"
"I knew you were going to ask that."
"Of course you knew. I always do ask."
"I did want to be wrong."
"You don't like to be wrong."
"I try not to care but I get that wrong as well. That's the thing about being wrong a lot it kind of likes to expand branch out and spread its things all over the place all over your stuff my stuff."
"What do you get now? Still 5?"
"She got her coat caught in her office chair."
"Who?"
"And one of the strings in the lining of her coat the string that you pull on to tighten the coat."
"I know what the string does."
"When it gets cold not that it gets that cold in the desert I think she wears it because it makes her think of being somewhere she'd rather be."
"Who's she?"
"I'm on a tangent I know but nowadays the things that connect to each other or don't really connect are the tangents just want to get the puzzle done one color matching forget it's there taking up space on the table until we spill something on it."
"Is this the one who was complaining in there earlier?"
"She's still in there complaining in there. No this is someone else. I help her get the knot out of the string that's wrapped around the wheel of her office chair several times turn turn turn around around around."
"I get it."
"I help her get that fucking knot out and unwrap the string and free her coat and as I set it back in place on the back of her office chair all the shit in her pockets cascades all over the floor. And she's saying it's OK it's OK. No it's not OK."
"What did you want her to say?"
"I don't know just not that it's OK."
"Who does she remind you of?"
"The one who's in there complaining or the one who got her coat caught in her office chair?"
"She reminds you of your mother."
"No."
"She reminds you of your father."
"No."
"Who then?"
"She reminds me of the mountains I see far off in the distance on the edge of the desert that I contemplate throwing myself off of and they look at me from the distance as if to say it's OK it's OK you amusing little man."
"And the one complaining in there?"
"Who gives a fuck. I would have preferred her to say something more like that's how it had to end that's what had to follow huh?"
"That wouldn't be nicer to say."
"You're not listening are you? It's the huh? A tiny huh? I've always hated the way others have said it, but if she had said it and with a question mark that no one else has ever used would have made all the difference and she didn't so never mind how could she have known I'm finding these things out now that do me no good now that's the rest of time it is now or now-ish."

I build a prison below the ground every day so that when the earth the dirt that is caves in into the cave this cave another layer will pile on top of the layers that are already there still there after the ones have crumbled away from the talking with the other prisoners the other things that walk around having come out of their corners their boxes having doffed their lids so officious it makes one puke the dirt that is it hardens into another layer will pile on top of the layers that are already there still there after the ones have crumbled away from the talking with the other prisoners the other things that walk around having come out of their corners their boxes having doffed their lids so officious it makes one puke the dirt that is it hardens into another layer of a prison I build a prison below the ground every day so that when the earth the dirt that is caves in into the cave this cave.


- Max Stoltenberg

STALE IMPINGEMENT

The difference between large and larger is how much pain I inflict on myself the difference between small and smaller is how much I avoid keep my hands still and watch them both come down again and again they like to show it with an a cappella chorus of "Oh, shit!" The workbooks were used with all the answers in them 9 out of 10 problems 8 out of 10 problems 7 out of 10 why did I get these? phony ketchup nowadays chocolate syrup missed the milk went bad anyway missed the chunks that hit the nostrils swish for a nausea riding a dead cow manure on the panel trying to get the last word in before the commercial dropping something in the kitchen smearing the black syrup car leaking into the house on the neighborhood plenty of complaints making paper pushing it simple enough to have a complex my very own slice of the run over animal ran over walked as slow as I could to drag it out my showing up in this life is contingent on my making it for the last 5 minutes.

"505 to 506."
"Go ahead."
"505 to 506."
"Go ahead."
"Disregard."

The nanny idea was aborted not in time anyway sweat vaporized into the already hot air didn't want to say say to this look anything about her face reflected in her face this look anything about this say to this to say say to this didn't want to say didn't want hot air already your water is boiling the bottom the underside of the cabinets steamed up about things things having to do or not having to do with the nanny idea was aborted not in time tried to what negotiate? was that what it was legs folded under her face reflected in her face folded into the couch what do they call that what do they call this in her face this?

Eyes close into each other pressed into the top of a fist leaning on a fist for broken friendship is that what this was what they call it? Was it did we call it friendship is that what it was? Whatever it was we called it broken used that a lot broken this broken that broken people they complained about them but liked them that way easier to open and have other holes to poke and fill with themselves intersubjectivity my ass he dumped some of the pills but took enough enough to rid himself of the disease of life eyes close into each other pressed into the top of a fist leaning on a fist for broken friendship left out a letter omitted a response the one where it becomes apparent that it doesn't matter which is left out took enough to rid herself of just a fraction enough for a theme that tears everything apart enough enough to penetrate and separate her a little more a lot more eyes close into each other.

"505 to 506."
"Go ahead."
"505 to 506."
"Go ahead."
"Disregard."

He called to him to come out of hiding what to talk about who knew he called to him and there were the usual excuses bailing out this loved one and that not so loved one looking up backgrounds and the interruptions of viruses. Can't put her back together anymore she'll just have to do it herself no points no weapons lose everything with each death died so frequently moving around has lost its blur for a sharpness a definition high with manic clarity walked briefly across a bridge between tabs until one closed and fell through my head as the voice inside split across the brain into tomorrow and yesterday these hands have become useless can't even rip junk mail not even a beginning cut following the causality to the lower levels of others only between is where they lead to the spaces of their avoiding me walk away and follow closely behind them or pretend to sniff behind their ankles heels just heels lifting them out of what they stepped in leaving what they're leaving more gaps for me to pause and forget and hesitate to answer hesitate to act gaps and the interruptions of viruses.

"Are you ignoring me?"
"You're jumping to conclusions."
"I like jumping to conclusions. It's the only exercise I get these days."
"When I was a child and my parents would take me to visit my cousins they had one of those upright pianos against the wall and under a picture that was very grey and looked like a boardwalk that appeared to go to the edge of the ocean except that there was nothing beyond the boardwalk no sea no sky just grey it almost matched the boardwalk except there was enough contrast in the boardwalk just enough to let you know there was nothing after the last step nothing and I would lift the lid on the piano and I would make up notes and press them softly and wait to listen to them fade into nothing until one of the adults would come up behind me and say, I think we've had enough.  I would sit there with my ears burning with the dissonance of silence and their words echoing in it and banging against it and pivot on that bench and swing my legs around to walk back along the boardwalk into the never enough that held my hesitation in place between the planks of every return trip."

The difference between large and larger is how much pain I inflict on myself the difference between small and smaller is how much I avoid keep my hands still and watch them both come down again and again they like to show it with an a cappella chorus of "Oh, shit!" The workbooks were used with all the answers in them 9 out of 10 problems 8 out of 10 problems 7 out of 10 why did I get these? phony ketchup nowadays chocolate syrup missed the milk went bad anyway missed the chunks that hit the nostrils swish for a nausea riding a dead cow manure on the panel trying to get the last word in before the commercial dropping something in the kitchen smearing the black syrup car leaking into the house on the neighborhood plenty of complaints making paper pushing it simple enough to have a complex my very own slice of the run over animal ran over walked as slow as I could to drag it out my showing up in this life is contingent on my making it for the last 5 minutes.


- Max Stoltenberg

CONCERTO FOR BRUSHSTROKE AND PLAYERS

The hammer was on the ground next to a grave that had been dug with the back end of it. The digger sat down next to an empty cardboard box looking around it to see if the hammer was still there and waited for the stomach pain to subside. And the stomach pain continued on in keeping with its resolve. The things remained where they were unless rubbed by the weather until more choices among them the choices of words stirred them up into an internal dance of motionlessness.

arrows do not actually move
tell the hearts they pierce
that

with all the moving around
of which parts matter
at the time of entry

we leave them alone
and bother each other
instead

nothing moves 
not really
after all the collisions

spaces for the margins
of existence
poetry retreats
from the margins of books

Get up get up get out of there it's not that deep I regret having said hello again and again during those earlier times I saw you I see you now I see your predicament and now I am blind I've lost my sense of the dimensions I should talk right maybe I shouldn't as the dimensions come pooling back shitting out like diarrhea in the dark corner of my mind goodbye says shut the fuck up while the marks of getting up and getting out wander away into it out of it get up get up get out of there it's not that deep I regret having said having said having anything at all said ripped from the room whipped like a plaque stuck the wall of forgotten expiration dating matched paired up like tangled cord behind and under the desk where asses bang heads into fake wood screwed together adhering to nonsense having nonsense come out with the afterbirth after it was too late out in the open where tree branches drop leaves coming a long way for bark cold bark of smelling the cut of hurt thumbs part to push up the wound bulging with ignored questions they're they're going on to something else too late out in the open where tree branches drop leaves coming a long way for bark cold bark.

"I can't remember what we were we talking about?"
"You're doing this again because you don't want to discuss it."
"How can I? All I get is did it have to do with I'm not even getting that."
"Are you seriously going to swipe everything off the counter of our conversation and into the hole of your coma?"
"No no I'm not. This is the coma."
"Do something else with your arm like getting it stuck in a lathe?"
"I don't know what I've been drinking."
"The house is surrounded."
"House?"
"The building the building is surrounded."
"Someone is going out to talk to them."
"You don't have to do this."
"What? Make shit up?"
"No I mean go out to talk to them."
"I wasn't going to go out to talk to them."
"I'm asking you to reconsider in short this could be this is an opportunity to be the roundabout in the circular argument that can finally be employed to bolster the weaker passages through the woods through the nothing but arid spaces you know you've always known what needs to be said to them now go I'm asking you to reconsider."
"Being employed isn't what it used to be."
"Now you're just making excuses. It's understandable you have your doubts and what day like today that arrives at last today on this today without it being put off until today without doubts?"
"What I'm getting at is that that someone is already wrapping up out there."
"You've missed it I tell you a bonehead for chiseling at the hands of the mob. You had your chance the chance and allowed the thin conduit available to you to them to fill with dirt desert dirt."
"Wasn't I the one who said existence is the narrow course between the runs and constipation?"
"That was said by the woman in the camouflage shorts in that awful joke you told the night you couldn't stop vomiting."
"So I did say it."
"You claimed it was inspired by some friend of yours who shared a similar joke that was actually quite different and even more tasteless with its gory details of old lady bridge players interrupting their bidding and play from the dummy with the presentation of sex organs found stuffed in brass instruments."
"I don't find your line of reasoning persuasive in the least. A slathering of the macabre is no different than the surgical mask covering a physician's alternating smirks and expressions of disgust."
"You had your shot."
"We keep changing the angle and missing a vein."

We've been out of the woods for too long and look for a canopy in the waste the quench has lost its way in the back of our throats to trip over itself and cough we choke ourselves into tears without the emptying of a sorrow that never comes only escapes with our euphemisms and chairs stacked in the back of our minds standing with our faces turned away from the table under the cracked glass spilling unpleasing water trickling towards a smashed bug its surface tension cannot lift its crushed its crushed while all the while we've been out of the woods for too long and look for a canopy in the waste.


- Max Stoltenberg

CLEFT EYE

The danger of it hovered the head the back of the head one of the shoulders sounded familiar like a script like a repeated meeting of things that didn't belong together and yet kept bumping into each other heard that one with the ear in the tall plastic cup with the design scratched out most of it scratched with some utensil some writing utensil had those removed at least that's what the dress the wrinkled dress told me and laughed now that wasn't good was it? was it? used the last tissue from the box the last box from the last time she disappeared when she looked looked like she was looking and I as I looked right at her looked as if I was looking right at her she disappeared without moving nothing moving about that that feeling that sensation of danger the danger of it hovered and perhaps another visit to the closet would settle this at least just this one time in the closet balled up in a corner and listening to the sounds orbiting around the corner I was in this corner of done for things this corner of had my chance and I never made swing at it many times too many times for this feeble memory of whose was it again the danger of it 

hovered

"You're exaggerating."
"Of course I am exaggerating."
"I can tell ask me how I can tell, Stamen."
"Stamen? Isn't that part of a plant?"
"It's a good name. Now ask me how I can tell."
"That is the genitals is it not?"
"You're not going to ask me are you?"
"Why would you name me after plant genitals?"
"Not you. This guy I used to work with in another building. They actually let us use tools there? Remember those? You probably don't."
"Why would you name me after him? Did he walk funny?"
"I'm just pretending you're him for the rest of the day. You probably won't remember what we're saying after you take your next shit."
"Is it because he dropped things or only read the first couple of sentences in every email he got?"
"This will all be falling out of your ass momentarily."
"Is it because he would foul up what he thought were profound quotes or the air at large?"
"Just for the rest of the day. Until he died."
"How did he die?"
"In the desert."
"Exposure?"
"Dead end job."
"I use less contractions when I exaggerate."
"There was this plastic snake that had two heads and the one plastic snake head said to the other: Help me to launch an all out attack on the rear. I think there is another head back there that could make trouble for the two of us. And the other plastic snake head replied: Ask me how I can tell that is a dumb ass idea. And what do you think the other plastic snake head said?"
"I use less contractions when I exaggerate."
"I am not being that overt you glued shut ass crack. The other plastic snake head didn't say anything because the little girl whose toy it was came along pulled it apart into its segments and put it away in a drawer."
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"There was this stapler on a diving board in the desert."

scratched out most of it scratched with some utensil some writing utensil had those removed at least that's what the dress the wrinkled dress told me and laughed now that wasn't good was it? was it? used the last tissue from the box the last box from the last time she disappeared when she looked looked like she was looking and I as I looked right at her looked as if I was looking right at her she disappeared without moving nothing moving about that.

"I see a face."
"Where?"
"In the cloud next to that creepy tree."
"Which creepy tree? They all look creepy."
"In the middle of this cloud here next to this creepy tree here."
"This cloud here?"
"Yes that one. Doesn't that look like a face to you?"
"Where you see faces I see clouds that withhold their rain."

What she had tumbling about in her head she did not want to put through another cycle wetting the towel is as far as she rubbing the sleep out of her glasses the town did not sit well on her stomach or any other part for that matter could not be destroyed but a voice was plucked out and hung over the fence looking over its shoulder this this doing of this out of context what should we call it she many times called him out of context speaking from the middle of his sentences trying out what trying on another as she walked away to come back with a beginning and end maybe that's what she went to get or find we'll just sit here until look for a place to sit until.


- Max Stoltenberg

GLASS HALF-FULLY POLLUTED

It was the dawn of another disappointment pains in the body blood in the mouth spat into the sink and swished around thoughts to be discarded and brought back up with the plunger of memory alas what a shitty instrument to have about convincing the torn paper with nonsense on it anyway that it cleaned something that filled and emptied and refilled with shit like this mind point with this finger to this head here.  Pull back to a coffin merging with a corner filled with grounds for dismissal dad doesn't like the entry again what we're saying being said the sides of the hurting head pump into the other side of the glass where blurry faces mumble colors to number stapled to questionnaires don't mention the part of the having trouble breathing when you talk no position whatever they offer won't slow won't thin out the heavy breathing don't tap for too long and then the broken record this should have been engraved a broken record that's what it always sounded like still sounds like when it's played back pulled back to a coffin merging with a corner filled with grounds for dismissal dad doesn't like the entry again what we're saying being said the sides of the hurting head pump into the other side of the glass where blurry faces what is that smell building up in my mouth it must be my words making me sick point with this finger to this head here.

The office was abandoned the air almost rid of the stench of people their chairs venting what their asses left behind food left in the refrigerator for weeks fuck the air upside down sunglasses that had been thrown on the desk pushing a paper clip through a hole for plugs cables someone pushed their chair back to look under the desk to see where the paper clip had fallen.

"What's wrong with you?"
"I'm sad."
"No, what's wrong with you?"

No don't get up where are you going? I hate it when someone walks away from a conversation and doesn't want to face it what I'm saying what I'm asking turning it off won't work this going on without you if you have to be dragged all the way through your walking away little person little knot twisted in on itself little rubber plastic end of the balloon of this little twisted end trying to tie this off this is on and will stay on until I say it is over and done with until I say later for you little twisted balloon end nobody come back here from down the hall you can hear me on the inside of the other end of the building.

"What's wrong with you?" 
"I'm sad."
"No, what's wrong with you?"
"I'm sad, I tell you."
"There is something very wrong with you."
"Sad is the fucking shittiest way to describe it."
"You do have a shitty way of describing things. Stop describing and admit you're weak. I just figured it out. That's what's wrong with you. You're weak."
"I'm sad and weak."
"And not as good as you think."
"I've rarely thought that I was good enough."
"And you like to slap that victim card noisily on the table."
"Right after I eat my own waste."
"You're proving my point."
"That's why I was brought into this world to prove someone else's point. I have been stuck on a spike and you jerk it around and make me say whatever it is you want me to say."
"Shut the fuck up."
"First you have to shut the fuck up. Do you hear that? Coming from the break room. Someone's probably taking what doesn't belong to them again. They look at your food and see your name on it and take it anyway."
"There's nobody in the break room."
"They found a way out. I haven't yet. More than likely I'll be going out as ashes inside a coffee can."

Paralyzed arguments squirm around
Flail their gassy defensiveness
Don't have a leg to stand on
That hasn't stopped the beating
of a chest of drawers
deposed stack of experiences
remember the way she warmed
the shitter for you
both of you
plugging up holes
stopping 
so much desert
room for the vapid
in all directions
spin yourself and fall
that way

The fly swatter itches with dirty blank stares pouring into them what's left over and recycled there was a manner in which it could be but not now maybe not tomorrow nothing will do it not a movie not a book not a carving not a slicing not a hearing not a voice not a smashing not a sound the fly swatter itches with dirty blank stares pouring into them what's left over and recycled used and reused mop water there was a manner in which it could be but not now maybe not tomorrow nothing will do it not a movie not a book not a carving not a slicing not a hearing not a voice not a smashing not a sound not a sound.


- Max Stoltenberg