Maeve Bennington
Stalemate
I mean obviously that is the case—what else did you expect?
It's dripping. Darling, can't you see that it's dripping? Look! I told you!
It leaks all the time and now it is dripping... No?
Alright, go flash the mailman then.
This marriage was a terrible idea.
I should have known the day I proposed and the Canadian
walked through the intersection and strangled his mother,
but no, no, now it's gone too far.
I'm going to have to ask you to turn your phone off.
You will be escorted from the building.
Everyone has—even me.
The man was run down by a carriage in the street.
You saw it but you did nothing except lick that
ice cream cone over and over and now he is run down in the street
by a carriage and while you have the ice cream cone
in your hand you should really be thinking about
the fact that he was a father and now he is dead.
I knew a poet once, but now he's dead too.
I'm often forced to refer to the quotations of a famous author
when addressing my father. He doesn't care for anything I have to say.
He wants to hear it from Sartre. Always Sartre.
Where was Martin Heidegger when the Germans invented misery?
Someone call four or five times and, eventually, we will respond in kind.
This is not a symbol but an eclogue, so you know.
It leaks all the time and now it is dripping... No?
Alright, go flash the mailman then.
This marriage was a terrible idea.
I should have known the day I proposed and the Canadian
walked through the intersection and strangled his mother,
but no, no, now it's gone too far.
I'm going to have to ask you to turn your phone off.
You will be escorted from the building.
Everyone has—even me.
The man was run down by a carriage in the street.
You saw it but you did nothing except lick that
ice cream cone over and over and now he is run down in the street
by a carriage and while you have the ice cream cone
in your hand you should really be thinking about
the fact that he was a father and now he is dead.
I knew a poet once, but now he's dead too.
I'm often forced to refer to the quotations of a famous author
when addressing my father. He doesn't care for anything I have to say.
He wants to hear it from Sartre. Always Sartre.
Where was Martin Heidegger when the Germans invented misery?
Someone call four or five times and, eventually, we will respond in kind.
This is not a symbol but an eclogue, so you know.
