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 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
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
Ben Conley
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 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
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
lunch ltd. 