Story about a Mall, by 29(x) Authors & Bernadette Mayer

 

1.  Chris Delamater &

 

Eating-in-Full-View tells us that this is nothing, if not a socialist mall.

They are raffling off presidential t-shirts and selling hats with eyes for holes.

From Eating-in-Full-View, “if my nuts were that big, I’d be a good dancer.”

The president responds, “we just want to squish things.”

The president squishes things and sells t-shirts.

Eating-in-Full-View refuses to dance.

 

2. David Michael Wolach &

 

A rebellious quotidian anything goes my ass.  Careful consideration here.  Never lift pen from paper.  Never, as in until you do, think: a tale, a tall or short one, blanched, chewed hacked, lots of fall the reinvention of fall might be a character, might not depends on the eye, the time, the place, what you ate for breakfast if you did.  Never listen to poets… never explain your work.  Never might be a character or a plot or a plotline or a plot against.  Fluidity of, see “never.”  As in “never again”?  As in: “should have zipped it when I had the chance”?  Should I write this one or that one.  Careful consideration in the now lost present.  Jill went up the hill there was some water there and shit, and that’s I why said to Leonard now, what, a year ago: “you wrote a poem? you got another corpse on your hands as soon as those clams are gone.”  Word-garnish.  In a word what’s it got to do with you?  I’m pointing and you have to guess where.  Story says: thank god for “stars.”  Without them we wouldn’t have metaphors, let alone friends.  Enemy combatant would have gone, right, here.  This is why you edit your, um, like, tale.  Could have ripped it with household utensils.  Because of thanks we can imagine new things.  Billy Maze here to tell you about some new old product for ripping.  A story about a man with a beard created in god’s image, which is to say, by god, for god, is god, the between things between your late night shows.  You can take the edge there where the neckline meets the bristle and start carving wood.  Eventually you’d have the likeness of some animal and craftsmanship would die under the weight of a fucked up etymology.  And so I fell in love with her on pg. 7.  Alerted to ACHING ARMS.  A story about genetic dystrophic  hyperspasticity.  Take that, name caller.  Much talk about opens and closeds.  It’ll wane as Adorno says, because Adorno said, “Today’s artists would rather do away with unity altogether, producing open, unfinished works, or so they think. The problem is that in planning openness they necessarily impart another kind of unity unbeknown to themselves.”  A character in a story called histrionics.  Boo.  Say the armchair laborers.  When they say free write my question is from where?  Location, location, location they could have said in the middle-to-late beginning of aforementioned plot.  To kill: here’s an overused verb in this context, ex context, ex-as-prefix for a pluralism isn’t urgent Barrett Watten wrote urgently and underlined while internalizing self-perceived pay per view smack down stapled in a way we now call DIY but they call “quaint” below 42nd Street, you know where the plane went swimming a couple days ago.  Now another prefab eulogy.  As in: “now” redundant in the face of all that harmless verb assault.  Looking for a new thing is a kind of hunting and aren’t we over that?  Sounds tall-grass Republican to me.  So I fell down in there and she lifted me up once again, said, take stock of the soup you just made.  Doesn’t smell delicious, smells like Baudelaire.  How many stories, ten, eleven, apartment sized and over hydrated just lately.  Her slips just fall away like dates, blind ones and all this talk about writing sentences with at least one “x.”  Obsession with the one organ that makes sense.  Make sense so far? Explore possibilities of lists, puzzles, riddles, dictionaries, almanacs for language use.    She writes.  A guy walks up to me, says: “take one tablet by mouth twice a day.”  No swallow.  No digest.  Imagines a dog tugging rope with the one hand he’s got.  Stories don’t always end well.  And the idea you have to interrogate simple direction detached from mothership is risky business I think the FDA would approve you suggesting re this.  Don’t you think there’s a political dimension?  What, like length?  Like a hole opens in the sky and suddenly there’s politics heckling you with a big foam finger?  Ignorance is bliss is a theme inverted by most readers of [insert your story].  Experiment with theft & plagiarism in any form that occurs to you.  Unless there’s nothing to own.  What if there’s nothing to own?  What then?  The klepto is lost, reduced to orange upholstered pouf chairs.  This is not doing nothing but losing using refusing and pleasing and betraying and caressing nouns.  This is doing nothing but losing using refusing and pleasing and betraying and caressing a noun. 

 

3. Andrea Paulik &

 

Mirror, wood or lucite frame.  It could be any, I suppose.  I just need to choose a material.  There are 24 ways to say the color, so that leaves me with some flexibility.  My client thinks the snow is funny – to each their own.  In my opinion it’s just good for a lamp, adjustable metal base.  If you need me, though, I’ll make it easy for you to see me.  I know it’s hard sometimes.  My name?  Whatever it was they called a hat long ago – people’s hats – I never did see what kind of hat hers was.

 

 

 4. Dave Walkord &

The day was dreary and the herd was small

How long do you have to wait before your mom calls?

Spinich and peperoncini and jalapanos, that’s all

You guys have all the phones. Pretty soon it will be all touch screen. I’ll have to bring my mom. I’ll have to upgrade. that’s pretty cool!

Anything with rechargeable bateries is a good thing

Thats a girl, look this way and don’t get dizzy!

The mall rats run through the coridoors and passage ways, content with just a small amount of food.

  

 

 

 

 

 5. Neil Twilla &

 

44 SPSCC/Courthouse. “Fuck you Malakai, are you making fun of me?” He drags a foot ala Joseph Merrick style over the curb loping toward the bench where she was seated.” Why do you keep calling my moms house?” He stops motionless in mock ponderance then suddenly leaps toward her, all boy, all furious. Swiftly up and over his shoulder she is slung and into the mall delivered. Her objections feigned. Unnoticed I scribble.

48 Evergreen. “Clutch purses don’t fit handguns easily,” said the raccoon eyed Goth chick as she searched her purse for something. The girls around her forced their obligatory laughter at her wise crack, she was out on a limb and not really one of their kind.

RT6 Shelton. “Every place has a style,” he said to his young friends. I didn’t look up from my notebook. “The biggest thing we got is Burger King, we got 650 people, one stop light and 4 churches. 3 of those broke.” Surprised to have actually hit on a profound thought he continued, “our religion is even broke.” Silence. What orbited in the consciousness of his Hollister girls?

47 Capitol Medical Center. 13 finger babies with no eye lashes. Cigarettes and cell phones. “I ended up leaving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.” Short pause. “No, I have to annunciate every word,” she gasped,” my parents drive me frick’n crazy!”  Another longer pause then in a defiant huff she pontificates, “I’ll smoke if I damn well please it’s not their baby.”

6. Alice Sellers-Subocz &

 

Look.  Our religion is broken.  He arrives and wants to sleep with them.  No, let him play.  Alright, we’re going to put your shirt on.  Sorry, he has no idea what he’s doing.  Here there’s nothing to shock you: 13-fingered babies with no eyelashes.  Frogs, flowers in the shapes of globes, a kangaroo.  The formation of these things.  And none of that other stuff.  Every little place has its own style.  I ended up leaving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.  They played with it when they assembled.  He might have a surprise for you.  The others would miss it.  You can leave him in August.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 7.  Kate Robinson

everything falls into increasing personal debt because they can.

 

huh.

 

for the entire two hours vibrating in a chair, but no one sat down.

 

authorized personality only knowing experiential synchronicity and communism. socialist malls. the atmosphere is maybe a mirror. everyone’s moving their legs and stuff together.

 

mom, can i put my shirt on? you can’t. i don’t want to work like that picture. i think it’s this way.

 

football definitely tastes like beef and it feels so good. oh wow.

 

the bear mill, where we grind bears.

 

he said i want you to go to hell, i said compared to other people? you went like this. is this gonna fix you? this.

 

anybody else?

 

i just need to choose a material. if you need me i’ll make myself easy to see. i couldn’t tell what kind of hat hers was.

 

anybody else?

 

and i never saw a man more frightened. that’s the water that makes your mouth water

 

beautiful.

 

anyone else?

 

a piece of language that came out of us while in playful interaction with the world. make something of it.

8. Saren Richardson

Our biggest problem is that we have to chase after them.
The trick is to know: you’ll get her eventually.
Then you do and she’s just there-
wanting you to be honest
but honesty’s a devil with a big fat knife and trust is shredded lettuce.
So I tell her that I’m all alone
and I’m controlling my body.
my crooked crotch.  my blunderbuss.
Then one day she is making tacos with shredded lettuce.
I tell her: “You little bitch, that smells so good.”
…her face is a scrunched up paper bag…she just smelled something foul
and it was you. I mean me.
So much for honesty.
You see those mannequins?  I’ve got one at home 
in the hall closet with all my vacuum attachments.
Of all the air-breathing ones, none is more adaptive than this one.
The mouth moves in and out.
You are free to choose your level of contentment.
After awhile,
the struggle stops.

 

Russell S. &
Stuck Up Sale: Pizza with Handles
Green caboose,
Gelato when the sun goes down
    Who Hah! All right! I’m gonna get this started…
You wanna hear something old or something new? 
        How old?
Hate, Weight, 1960s!   Is it good?  Is it hot?  Too hot?? Do you want a pickle?
I need to sit down for a sec-okay?
     Ella no está allí caundo mís papas…
—She can do a lot more worthwhile things than you—seriously Carl-Blow on it,
Get a little on your spoon and blow on it.
     I like to see how you eat your soup.
            Close me out, okay?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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One Response to Story about a Mall, by 29(x) Authors & Bernadette Mayer

  1. neil says:

    This is something which might be found to have it. Yes? Leave a response Uncategorized from a trackback to the womb through an RSS 2.0 feed than enter posted notes in bushels of choice cuts and snippets worthy of the other filed attempts (or none) proudly empowered by textual running fun ctions addressing experiments in high resolution. Infectious viral strain identified Monday, January 19th at 1:07 pm

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