lunch ltd.

Snacks when you need them. // In association with NewStyleMedia

Consultation

Image

Resting his head on a book of puns he asks me, What is the worth of a word?

I double check the figures on my napkin and give him my initial estimate excluding contingencies. His face tells me he can afford it, set in gold and ticking off the time in a strangely syncopated fashion. Opening a jar of jam he winks at our waitress, Excuse me M’am, but when is a door not a door?

Ben Conley

The Sometimes Sea

Image

The boy holds a can of coke and applies just enough pressure to be gifted the pleasure of crinkling. He pours the drink into a bowl and sets afloat a ship of folded paper. He sends away the cat and with sweet breath gives the ship to spinning. The little paper crew unfold their hands and brace against the fury. A light comes to life in the kitchen and whispers thoughts of lunch. The boy lifts the bubbling sea and stows away its maritime dream. Thinning galleymen forget themselves and fall away to sleep.

Ben Conley

At the Agency

Image

Yes sir, this fire works. I have it on high authority from the farthest lands that of course you may. Take hold and approach with me the center of the blaze. Here you will find the earth is warm, coaxed into being by all our brave initiatives. We offer quite the special for inquisitive and financially secure participants, that of course you may. It is quite simply the making of an allowance, of a unique privilege for one and only. Yes sir, this is you. This thing for you have cleared the directives and have found the proper implement. We deal in guarantees and the unquestioning. We can enable great turnings of gears and grease, but choose instead to lightly char the earth with concentric circles. You must see it is better this way. Come closer so you may see that of course you may. Please do not forget to breathe and this experience will soon belong to you and you alone. Yes sir, of course.

Bob Gatson

A Pile of Rocks

Image

Rocks in a pile gather in density, bind themselves to each other with borrowed gravity. They float a few feet above the ground. One by one an elderly gentleman removes rocks from the cluster. As each rock is removed the mass gradually takes on height. At the end of the day he will sell them for $4.99 a piece and the discerning shopper will recognize excellent opportunities for future investment.

Ben Conley

A small hill near an overpass.

Image

–and the dirt that fell from the sky took the boy by surprise. Looking over the hill he can see hundreds of minivans keeping the highway warm. Pardon me but I’m looking for a shower and a smaller car. They drive by in color-coded waves. Two dozen Town & Countries bright red and flecked with mud. Another twenty-some purple Toyotas and an aging Mazda follow close behind. It is quite likely the sun is setting. Yes, but I’m standing here and still I am not clean. A clever reproduction of an island breeze causes the boy to shiver while he reaches for his phone and a stick of gum, fresh and minty. A streak of green passes by going eighty. The boy calls home and waits for his mother to pick him up.

Ben Conley

Syrup

Image

A lizard spoke from the rafters requesting a second helping of syrup. My dear friend I try, but I know not where I left it. In secret I think of the room where Scarlet prepares her pancakes and often winks at me. Lizard leaves quickly for another great elsewhere whistling off key. It is true I keep many secrets from him, but I will have no syrup on my ceiling. 

Ben Conley

Collect your chickens…

Image

Collect your chickens when they hatch or else their eggs. Speak with exacting correctness and touch your toes in the mean time. I mean really touch them, like you would your lover’s. I speak here of a breeze folding like cake batter, or better yet the body of a cat named Dirt. We gather material of varying consistency. I pull a weed up and toss it in the crate caring less about the crop and more about the sound of roots escaping the earth. I figure I’m still doing my job.

Ben Conley

Alright

Image

Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me. I’ll place them all in a bowl the size of your head. Was it grapes? You were always such a passionate advocate of grapes. No, it’s something different this time. I can tell by the way you squint at me. 

Bob Gatson

In an empty room

Image

You touch the screen of your book, but quickly forget the novel sensation as your attention is drawn to the nape of your neck. The all-too-familiar feeling originating there informs you of another body part–the eyes–but those which rightfully belong to another. You address yourself in the second person saying, ‘You know this room is empty,’ but remain at the sensational level, unconvinced. Without turning around you attempt to construct the features surrounding these eyes, but you can only see the back of a head. You feel in your neck either an intensified gaze or a perspectival enlargement of the eyes, as if they are moving closer to you. Likewise, the back of the head which watches you seems to decrease in size as it approaches. As this distance shrinks–as the eyes grow larger, the head smaller–you become certain of the presence you would wish to dismiss. At the final moment before contact you move your finger with a shudder and continue reading.

 

Ben Conley

LAUNCH LAUNCH

Image

New destination threshold blazes in from the left. It’s hot and all the world wants it. Top secret public eye and downtown madmen. Can you taste the oriental delicacy of the unknown containable? The package arrives at Heathrow. Men in dark colors, short hair, many eyes will come for it–fold out its legs and set out the silverware. No help need apply, this is an all-world every man on his own sort of situation, but still we look at each other over the centerpiece. Turkey dinner on top of a briefcase as big as a room–like computers used to be. Jack in, jack in! Time’s running out on the trial period of your peers, you better check the number on your napkin. Has she put her sunglasses on? Grab your fork and eye the turkey, instead. Brown, tan, juicy, right smack on patent leather (high quality) and gold plated fastening. What meal is this we have come to, breakfast or dinner? Prayer! Where, where, oh where is our prayer. What’s the Father doing in a leather jacket like a motorcycle? Don’t you know it’s a brand new time for everyone? Even you, lovely friend, with soft skin, and impeccable taste. It’s all sunrises from here on out–hundreds and thousands; orange, blue, bluer, and earlier a purple to shake a stick at. The sun shines bright like plastic upholstery in the museum of the days of tomorrow. Let’s collect all the futures of our past and compact them quick now, real fast, we still need time to dissect this attache case by case. We’ve reduced the coming levels of sodium for the sake of pepper and the color blue–but weren’t we competing for something? There is no greater tragedy than an ad agent with Alzheimers. Gather round, one and all, and deposit your rosebuds in the excellent container at approximately right angles from each other. If we can, before this meal commences, let us reign in some palpably snackable geometry and trace the stars on our hankerchiefs. More come by plane every day, from Hollywood to Bollywood a post-national constellation of sitters-in-planes; more comfy for your money. A young contingent of wunderkinds–the pinwheelers for democratic society–organize a section of the briefcase in such a way that there appears to be a second briefcase resting up over the corner reservation  But enough of these angles, I need the real deal for real cheap and I’ve never needed you more.

Bob Gatson

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 458 other followers

%d bloggers like this: