All posts in "Max"

360 Degrees

Published November 29, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

360 Degrees

She could see the way
things were interconnected.
The circus rings, the wheels,
The bowls and glasses,
The bottles and crowns,
The rings, orbs and globes,
The compass.

He thought of body parts,
The tits, the round ass,
The nipples, the circle made by her lips.
“Sex ruins everything”, he said.
“You’re so right, it does!” she agreed.
“That’s why I’m glad we’ve moved on.
Now we can have something better.”

She wanted a gramophone,
To play old vinyl records of Mozart,
With the amphitheaters, the coliseums,
The bubbles, the dew drops,
The movement of water and
The hurricanes.

He knew she was right,
In love, out of love,
Not the way he wanted to be loved,
But neither was it the end.
Their love had come full circle.
MR Stuik 2018

Abbraccio

Published November 29, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Abbracio

Riding bicycles in the rain in Lucca.
Had to buy some gloves,
It’s cold in November.

Round the top of the wall
That hugs the city.
The walls they refused to part with.
Loyal to them to the end.

They laughed and remembered
the joy of riding bikes as children.
Out on your own,
Into town with the dog
and adventure.

Or hitching a ride on a friend’s bike.
Balancing and not falling.
They had fallen in love
And then out of love.

And here they were on the walls
of Lucca in winter’s embrace.
Friends to the end.

It’s My Turn (To Be Done)

Published October 30, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Its My Turn

The first done was

that holiday done.

He said something stupid,

and she let him have it.

“What? We’re done.”

The second done

came in the laundry room,

in a nasty exchange

where he said,

“You’re so fucking miserable. Why?”

To which she replied,

“Fuck you. We’re done.”

The third done

came on the dance floor in Mexico.

She wanted to dance, they just flew in.

He wanted to go to the hotel room

and have sex.

She stormed back to the room.

Made him sleep on the couch.

In the middle of the night he came to bed,

As he was going down on her,

she stopped him, waved her finger and said,

“Last time, we’re done.”

The fourth done came on

a balcony in Madrid.

He held her from behind

and she felt it turn off for him.

Like a light switch.

She didn’t say a word.

It was a silent, but deadly done.

The fifth done came

when they met back in New York.

It was brief,

she gave him a peck on the cheek,

they had lunch and she left.

He said, “I know, we’re done.

“Still love you though.”

The sixth done came

as he was writing his book in the desert.

She called him and told him

that she was packing her things.

Her mother rented a huge shipping container

and they took absolutely everything.

He came home to an empty house,

with his new boots that book money had bought.

“It’s my turn” he said to the squirrel,

(who had returned, hoping for some almonds.)

“To be done.”

The 4th Impression

Published October 26, 2018 in Max , Milla - 0 Comments

The 4th Impression

Got all gussied up.

Because, let’s face it,

you only have one chance

to make a 4th impression.

Because the first never goes as planned.

The second, you have more latitude,

but it could be just infatuation.

The third, well, who cares by then?

It’s the 4th that really makes or breaks it.

Max wore his blue suit

with the silk Deco tie.

And those shoes he bought

from Portugal.

He reasoned, “What have I got to lose?”

She thought, “Hmm…he’s a clothes horse. I can work with that.”

Anatomy of a Heart Attack

Published October 4, 2018 in Max , Ophelia , Uncategorized - 0 Comments

Anatomy of a Heart Attack

“I was in the kitchen

and he was sitting at the counter.

He looked at me and smiled.

I said,’What?’

He said and I’m not kidding,

‘If I were to ask God

to create the ideal woman,

In temperament,

disposition,

beauty,

intelligence and talent,

He could not do better than you.”

“It melted my heart”, she said.

“I just went to him and kissed him.”

“I don’t know what to say, I said.”

‘Don’t say anything.’ he replied.

You don’t have to say anything,’

Her ex Max shook his head,

“Smooth operator,

He’s a smooth operator, that guy.”

Savor

Published October 3, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Savor

Max leaned in and

kissed her.

Just below her ear

on the nape of her neck.

He inhaled.

There was something about

the way she smelled.

It wasn’t perfume or essential oils.

It was her.

Like distant lilacs

like before a fall rain.

It was almost ancient,

Archetypal, was it pheromones?

It transcended lifetimes.

It was encoded in his neurons,

Did everyone notice that about her?

They couldn’t,

he thought.

“What are you doing?” Ophelia asked.

“I need a shower, I know.”

“No” said Max, “I love the way you smell.”

“Idiot.” she said pushing him playfully away.

Midnight Ass Itch

Published August 13, 2018 in Max - 0 Comments

Midnight Ass Itch

It was a little after midnight

when it started.

First on the left cheek

on the inside of the crack.

A really inopportune time,

as he was in the middle of a date

that was going rather well, for once.

But it just kept getting worse.

He tried standing and

sitting differently.

“I have to use the little boy’s room.” Max said.

“Hurry back,” she replied,

“ I need to tell you something.”

Blowing him an air kiss.

He bit his lower lip and

practically ran to the bathroom.

The men’s room door was locked.

He couldn’t wait and

stepped into a closet,

pulled down his pants

and started itching like

a violin player.

Suddenly,

a waiter opened the closet door.

And there he was

hand in the cookie jar,

mortified,

forever frozen in time.

Piquant

Published June 22, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Piquant2

When the marriage ended

Max was away writing a book about the endocrine system.

By the time he got back,

Ophelia and her mother had already packed

a massive steel shipping container full of all their stuff.

He was left with virtually nothing.

She gave him 3 forks, 3 chipped bowls,

and a set of green plates that she didn’t like.

After that, she would drop by periodically

to take something else.

Like picking treats off a carcass.

One time she showed up unannounced

and took most of the rose bush.

“I took a course in roses” she said,

“I can propagate these.”

Then she came by again

and took two huge pieces of the cactus.

“I found a great recipe.”

A third time, she went into his closet

and took all of his silk underwear

(a gift from her mother on his birthday).

“My mother needs these back.

She’s making Romulus and Remus

little outfits. You don’t mind do you?

It’s not like you ever wear them.”

MR Stuik 2018

Hubcap

Published June 7, 2018 in Genevieve , Max - 0 Comments

Hubcap2

It flew off the wheel

on 7th Avenue.

She was a French woman, very sweet.

It cut her rather badly.

Her shin was bleeding.

Alex, Yevgeny, and Max puled over.

Alex jumped out of the car.

“I’m so sorry!” said Alex.

“It’s not your fault.”

“What’s your name?”

“Genevieve.”

“Genevieve, you need to go to the hospital.

can we take you?”

“Yes, s’il vous plaît.” she was beginning to feel faint.

They drove like Banshees

to Saint Vincent Hospital.

“Should we wait for you?”

asked Max,

Above the Front

Published June 2, 2018 in Artificial Intelligence , Max - 0 Comments

Above the Front

Harlie, the AI was acting funny.

Like some hacker had

slipped him some digital windowpane.

You could tell by

the benignly sinister comments,

dilated pupils,

and teeth grinding.

(Teeth of solid steel, mind you.)

“What if we can’t get him back?” asked Max

“I knew this guy at boarding school,

he dropped acid and was never the same,

total psychotic break.”

“Bird flu must have been a cover,” said Harlie.

“Feed the signal” he added cryptically.

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