God Bless The Guests At The Banquet

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Rich Millett's latest collection of new material finds him weaving together fragmented narratives in a bold new experimental style. Published August, 2015.

Transcript of God Bless The Guests At The Banquet

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"I'll be perfectly honest with you. Think about sitting through a very loud, very long piano recital"

"Stop. Next."

One image at a time

I was at home, eating a bowl of mushroom soup. I ran my tongue over my top left wisdom tooth, very lightly. With that, it cracked in half, all the way up the middle, splitting off at my gums. The half of my tooth that I spit out into my hand was all grey and black. The pain was searing, I couldn’t stop sweating, and my panic produced saliva that pooled around the exposed innards and felt like 100 low voltage electric shocks. I knew I had to move quickly, so I went to the kitchen, grabbed a toothpick, and in three or four deft, quick thrusts, speared and fished out the pulp, thus deadening the horrible aching. The next night, I called an oral surgeon. While waiting to book my appointment, a hunk of my top right wisdom tooth fell out so quickly I nearly choked on it.

(Whilst warming up his lunch in the kitchen area microwave, Peter was approached for his thoughts.) “I’ve done prison ministry, campaigned against corporate influence in the media, and I try to be environmentally conscious” “I feel like I’m being written out of the story”

(Oliver, whose eyes could barely be seen, as he was seated behind a bowl spilling over with candied figs…took a moment but still eventually coughed...) “You’ve already taken your share. I don’t know why I can’t have this.”

a candle a man seated, uncomfortably linear, bright white

Emily announced "this is sobering" and yet everyone kept smiling perhaps they were ignoring her or merely immune to idle warnings but this was no occasion for prevention they didn’t want to lose their reservations arrangements for the presidential suite were made discreet and fast and Henry on the escalator was heard to laugh "this wasn't meant to last"

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One image at a time

ONE IMAGE ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: See, I misunderstood you. I thought when you said “chop”, you meant vertical cuts. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: No, man. It’s more like horizontal slices, if you’re thinking of it visually like that. AT A TIME Hold the fish by the head and scrape the scales from the tail toward the gills with a small knife. Pay particular attention around the fins, since they can prick your skin. Remove all of the scales from both sides. Remember the scales around the pectoral and dorsal fins. Wash the fish. Avoid blasting the water, just enough pressure to remove loose scales from the body.

Another of our herd has died What to do, I can’t decide I'll make some calls, finalize the time and we'll perform the burial rites but this moment needs some quiet please don't play the piano tonight Now she's deeply under the leaves where poachers wont harvest her ivory We walk forward filled with memories but her secrets are still bound tightly drop the keys, it doesn't seem right please don’t practice the piano tonight

__________________________________________________________________________________________________ White van, I don't want to see you following me please, let's agree we don't owe each other anything And allow one to dissolve into the fog this evening

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The journalist was confounded. There was far more to this castle than her research had indicated. As the caretaker guided the team down a winding stone staircase into a hitherto unseen second basement, the journalist tried to imagine actually living in such a place. A massive Mahogany door barely on its hinges was moved aside. The caretaker reminded the team that other than family, nobody else had been allowed to see what was left in these depths. The journalist noted however, that there was little of interest…a dingy gold three legged sofa, various certificates in frames hung on the walls, and a small trampoline with what appeared to be dirt or sand caked all over it. Upon entering the final room, the journalist paused for a second in disbelief, but then instinctively motioned to the photographer. There it was before them. This meant that even the vilest rumors could be true, the old bastard autocrat had actually built a glass coffin.

The meeting had been its usual interminable self. As ever, the agenda was carried through without variation. The upper management all sat at the head of the table, and would decree a policy change. The employees who formed the next tier of power all clustered together at the opposite end, and judging by their eye rolling, body language, and wordless tut-tutting, you could tell which regulations would stick, and which would be forgotten. And while the form of this meeting was the exact same as every other, the tone could not have been more different. And as the second level sailed along on their steady stream of hushed bantering, the department head muttered an aside that they would be lucky to even make payroll this month. Camille’s head spun around in cold shock. She looked to the insiders, and then even the outliers for any type of confirmation that someone out of this large group also just heard what she had.

They booked their time together on the top floor, after hours. They still made sure it went unmentioned on any shared calendars. Their passive aggressive argument about answers created a din that raged even as they individually left the room, and faint echoes of which could be heard by the overnight cleaning crew.

(Emily was stopped in hallway and asked a short series of questions. Her answers appear verbatim below.) “I was just trying to think of activities that could be enjoyed by the whole group.” “A decision was made that it is unfair to constantly discipline just one or two people, so we made rules that would apply to everybody.” “I have absolutely no opinion about that.” “We had absolutely no qualms about sending her around the floor to look at what people were doing on their computers…and nor should we have.”

Turning away from the table, and looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the excellent view From this perspective, it’s a radiant day The sky is cloudless, except for that Charming small cluster over on the right The sun resplendent in its noon time posture The trees wave lazily in the wind A woman walks her dog The high school track team jogs by Deer in the forest preserve Nibble at the cabbage and lettuce left for them And a worker pulls up and Takes out a shovel from his trunk

"Did you hear that? “Did you hear that?” Camille grabbed my arm and shout whispered as I was walking by the ladies’ room. “Emily made that comment about not making payroll…how come nobody even noticed that? This is bad, this is bad news, Matthew” I saw Camille again three hours later and she handed me a crumpled note. I nicked into a supply room and opened it up, smoothing out the paper against a cold, tall cabinet. She had written “This reminds me of when you’re a kid, and you’re sick, and your mother is driving you the doctor’s office. You’re miserable, and every turn of the car makes you nauseous. You’re out of school, but you’re not having any fun, and you’re looking at people walking down the sidewalk and having a normal day, and you wish that you could be just like them because it feels like you won’t have a normal day again.”

Silver/Mercury amalgam mix in his mouth Puss poisoning he can’t spit out He can choose cadaver bones in an allograft Or just leave a giant gash

White van, I know that I’m not supposed to, but I looked at the driver through the glass I couldn’t identify him, but I noticed he didn't return the glance

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Pure “well, not pure”

Anna closed the door as she entered. Before her, she saw the person she had mockingly named “the model of efficiency” “these are the moments Where I find this relationship Impossible and exhausting I’m utterly untrusting of its dynamics And when I’m in the grips Of supervised loneliness I find myself fearless about The future, for any Renovation would be an Improvement over this Pact of politesse, and Impacted guarded emptiness I'm afraid of being alone in a room with you apprehensive about your sources and associations and it confirms my worst suspicions when I overhear each separate set of secrets through the wall in your alleged private conversations”

Empty halls Empty chairs Empty closets Empty cubicles Half of the lights silent

Henry: “So, let me get this straight. We won. We were faster, smarter, stronger. We had better infrastructure. And you want us to apologize for that?” Yes, we found timing disturbances that were caused by the presence of random distractions Henry: “It was fun. So much fun” Yes, as we tried to observe more diligently, we found it only vanished more quickly Henry: "Oh, I bet that was something said by Mr. Ego" Yes, we started having every light on the floor turned on by 6:30 a.m.

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Henry: "I like music that has piano in it. Not sad piano, but you know, more upbeat type piano" Yes, we insisted that everybody have a clean work station free of clutter and personal decorations Henry: "Quotes are dumb" Yes, we considered that they were only trying to please us Henry: "I just don't think it's realistic to have a separation between church and state. How can your faith not inform how you vote?" Yes, we spoke with each worker individually, giving both minor critiques and positive re-assurances

Empty aisles Empty desks Empty rooms Empty elevators Half of the lights humming

“He walks the hallways Smiling so widely That you only see the Whites of his eyes While nodding his head All the way up and slowly Down until his chin is Against his chest Noiselessly, awkwardly Repeating this motion Until he disappears Behind his desk ‘they think I’m simply scanning Perhaps as a protective measure Or to find something to Use against them later But what they can’t Comprehend, is that I store information entirely for its own end’ He sits alone overnight In what he calls ‘the war room’ Typing codes That only he knows A near imperceptible presence, nourished by radio gags, sugar packets, false flags, and hyper attention”

“I throw myself on your mercy”

White van, the next day I saw it driving away getting more distant in the rearview Only for one to rematerialize next to me One in the oncoming turn lane, and one pulled off With the hazard lights blinking I kept wondering, “how is this possible, how is this happening?”

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It’s arriving tomorrow “it’s arriving tomorrow” It’s arriving tomorrow

They’ll whisper tributes to his candor or sincerity They’ll whisper that humility was his most pronounced virtue They’ll whisper he understood the decency of holding a secret They’ll whisper that his hands were somehow kept clean They’ll whisper that his story was a perfect parallel They’ll whisper about the shrewdness behind his benevolence They’ll whisper about his dignity being demeaned They’ll whisper that he was resigned to another time They’ll whisper that rectitude is something you’re born into

Anna approached Daniel in the parking lot. They had not seen each other since she had been laid off 15 months previous. She had missed his advice about how to deal with her son being bullied in high school, his support when she did not want to participate in writing new procedures, and she knew through the grape vine that he was one of the few who did not participate in the cruel in-jokes at her expense when she’d call in late. Daniel slipped and mentioned his latest deadline, forgetting that it had been a project that Anna had initiated. He stammered to a disjointed conclusion and tried smiling optimistically. She herself talked hurriedly, making a concerted effort not to express any bitterness at her circumstances or treatment. But while it was nice to see him, and he was very polite, she soon excused herself and walked back to her car. She could not help but feel they were strangers. Strangers, just like every member of this artificial family that she had invested so much of her identity in. She had given Daniel her meticulously kept files on her last day, and all she could hope was that at least he’d recycled them. Her projects abandoned, her accomplishments forgotten. All her efforts, passions, panic attacks and migraines reduced to a staff picture on the wall, hanging above a trophy. “And even that’ll get tossed when they have their next mandated cleaning day”, she muttered to herself, while throwing her car into reverse.

The signs had been there for months. No company picnic. No fresh coffee in the executive suite. A moratorium on off-site meetings and catering. Thomas walked out of the parking lot, knelt down, plucked one of the few remaining flowers along the walkway, and pinned it to his lapel. He looked past the barren patch, and swore he saw Anna’s car turning right at the exit up ahead.

Found in a small clearing/not far down the trail/ it appeared to be a shrine/without idols/statues/altars/nails

Pearl grey day Black old Cadillac hadn't seen one like that since 1993 and even then it was an anomaly back bumper read "Don't Tread On Me"

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“We’re leaving it vacant” We’ll leave it vacant “Leave Vacant” ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: You said, you said it was basically a competition… ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: It was, you know…and it shouldn’t have been. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: Because nobody’s gonna win? ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: Yeah, there’s that, but there aren’t even losers. They just keep it all the same. It’s just another coat of paint. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: Is it like bacteria in a petri dish? ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: That’s a better way to put it. Bacteria doesn’t care. One evening I actually overheard one them say "I don't think nothin’". ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: Oh my God. Wow. What else do you think played a part? ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: Jealousy. It’s jealousy that fed into their need to gossip, and that kept them from thinking, and kept their minds so small. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: But couldn’t jealousy have been a positive? Like, it could have banded them together? ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: No, because jealousy is shallow. And that shallowness was expressed in all these different ways. And that was encouraged. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: But wouldn’t that… ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: Yeah, and that was their folly, right? They were determined to play pre-determined roles they had no part in determining.

A simple phone call/Another issue averted/Another afternoon…and then it was time for lunch. They couldn’t hear when Emily repeated herself the first time. And again. And then again. They took the somber disbelief out of the moment. Compressed insecurity into a nuisance. They performed their programmed function. Wandering vacant spaces, staring past outer edges, interrupting themselves under exit signs, gawkily hovering at oblique angles. Without divesting themselves of possessions, surviving on the offerings of passersby, or ridding themselves of family.

“name in a circle. Repeat. Name. name in circle. Repeat.” “name in a circle. Repeat. Name. name in circle. Repeat.” “name in a circle. Repeat. Name. name in circle. Repeat.” Pronounce the word. Break the word into syllables. First syllable. Second syllable. Repeat each egressive sound so carefully as to be a pin prick. Repeat. “First syllable. Second syllable. Third syllable. Fourth syllable. Repeat.” Repeat each egressive sound so carefully as to be a pin prick. Repeat. Pronounce the word. Break the word into syllables. First syllable. Second syllable. Repeat each egressive sound so carefully as to be a pin prick. Repeat. Renounce distraction, resist corruption. Resist distraction, renounce corruption. Repeat. Renounce distraction, resist corruption. Resist distraction, renounce corruption.

(Four Years Later) “I was on a camping trip, sleeping in a tent. It had been so cold overnight, that when I woke up, there was a small pile of snow next to my mouth that had formed from my breath. And as funny as this might sound, it made me feel like spring would be soon.”

Black old Cadillac, Shelly read the sticker And laughed incredulously “is that really what you have to say?” Sue said “I suppose it depends on the context” Shelly shot back “I think we can easily assume what they mean by that” Sue flatly asked “can we?” As the Black Cadillac ambled along Shelly turned her attention to the jagged piles of cement abandoned in the wake of the construction, the rusted silos stubbornly pinned to the horizon She turned to Sue and said, “sometimes I guess you have to consider your own protection” Then looked at the weeks of car exhaust clinging to the clumps of snow the vestiges of old money, streets bleached with salt early morning on a pearl grey day

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"Honestly, by this point I just cannot believe that there is any ambiguity around this."

"Stop. Next."

"I'm sorry"

This boil or sore or whatever the hell it was had developed on my upper inner thigh. And this was in the horrible heat of summer, and where I was seated they kept the windows open all day. I was forced to face West. Every afternoon, I had no choice but to get assaulted by the sun. The one day I tried closing the window, or at least lowering the blinds, it started a fight. To try and resolve the argument, it was put to a vote, which I of course lost. So, I had this thing preventing me from walking normally, exacerbated by grime, sweat, and, constant friction. It was like this sore was the center point, and there was a nerve connecting it to the apprehension in my mind and then out the other side into the musky, thick pressure that made this room constantly stink. So I spent these seemingly time stopped weeks, roasting in my own resentments and bodily fluids. The puss in my leg kept accumulating, the sore growing ever larger…until one early evening…I all of a sudden felt this wetness on my crotch. It was more than the normal late in the day humidity, and I first thought “I know I didn’t piss myself, what the fuck is going on?” The walk to the bathroom was awful…I dragged along at an almost elderly crawl…I locked myself in a stall… lowered my trousers…and this thing had burst…and looked like a bullet hole…blood soaking my legs and clinging to the material of my clothes…the raw wound hurting and throbbing as I forced myself against my will to squeeze out the collected, calcified chunks of puss…and with each pinch of my fingers, another half second of exaggerated wincing irritation…another spurt of blood shooting across…landing on my other leg, on the toilet seat, on the wall. I cleaned myself as best I could, and hobbled out of there to grab some band aids from the nurse’s station. After that, I had no choice but to wait out the next few hours, exasperated and trying to figure out what the purpose of all of this was.

I could debate with my own thinking I could edit my dreams to better illustrate my desires I could watch myself acting out daily rituals

We were well within Our limitations to wonder if you Were ghosts, and Later ponder Can the sun touch the arms of an organism That evades capture both in the corporeal cells And the interred image A few depleted souls whose supposed sins were outliving their age and not possessing the ability to arrange safety for the coming days

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(Whilst walking quickly through the lobby, heading out the door, Jack was approached for his thoughts) “I don’t really think in terms of legacy. You know me, I am focused on the here and now. But there’s no harm in restoration. It’ll stay clean this way.” “Why am I leaving precisely right now? Hmm, well I'm not paid to stay…”

(Sean, barely able to conceal his resentments, and ready to rip the paintings from the walls chortled a retort that pushed through his nasal passages and out his mouth.) “You must be mad. Absolutely. And right now your face looks like the world’s cheapest costume jewelry.”

"I'm sorry"

ONE IMAGE With your hand wet, shape the shari rice into a long, oval from. Cut a slice of fish, about 1 cm thick, 5 cm long, and 3 cm wide. Take a pea-sized portion of wasabi, and smear it along the middle of the fish. Place the slice of fish, with the wasabi side facing down, on the rice. AT A TIME ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SUPERVISOR: Or, it could mean you know, like a “chop shop”, taking out each individual element. ACCOUNTS PAYABLE SPECIALIST: No doubt, that’s where that term probably got its start.

we sit huddled together in the attic sharing a maroon blanket watching the wax drip down the candles the raucous holiday party sounds seeping through the floorboards we're so tired of the darkness in our lives but there's no distractions on this side listening to the majestic, but muted piano playing in the parlor

__________________________________________________________________________________________________ White van, I pointed one out to her And then she started noticing them, too Seemed like logic had stopped working We uneasily joked that we should wake each other from our dreams “Or”, I said under my breath “is this a new part of our reality”

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"they were planning on buying an island"

I can walk freely and eschew contempt I can walk freely and choose silence I can walk freely and excuse secrets

it’s a fact that people need to dream it’s a fact that people need to dream peace will come peace will come

I walk a path I walk a path That circles around I walk a path Across the pattern I walk a path I walk a path That I didn’t build I add where I can I walk a path I walk a path That I keep clear I walk a path That reconstitutes Once it disappears

“My question is, what in the hell was he still doing going to Trader Vic's? Why? Think about being 64 years old and still trying to keep Rome afloat. Madness, right? Very far out.” (laughs)

I can only hate the cold morning for so long I can say I’m staying sorry but you’re not a fool and will recognize the pantomime while I'm not made for fiction it seems impossible to ask the question

White van, I asked the priest If I paid my penance, then why don’t I have any peace? He explained that it’s not just the devil that can assume other forms

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“Oddly and yet tellingly, the real sign of their closeness and friendship was that together they had planned this elaborate ruse. I know that at first glance it seems almost totally counter-intuitive, but there’s a well-established pattern of behavior that it touches on.”

I walk with God I walk with God I walk with God Through all my changes During my happiness And throughout my challenges I walk with God I walk with God Close to my memories Through my mistakes Past all my actions I walk with God I walk with God I walk with God For forgiveness For resolution To see the stages I play a role in I walk with God I walk with God Because I know it’s easy to Fall into false humility Or declare your own authority I walk with God I walk with God I walk with God To try and understand As much as I can About the expanse of creation I walk with God I walk with God Because of the moments When I see serendipity And grace expressed so sublimely

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I’m only here To accept my responsibility

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like And as time went on I felt more and more disconnection I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like until I had almost complete Separation of my selves

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like and this wasn’t troubling I thought it would help

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like And that I could make A true observation And learn and improve

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like But I found that the obverse was true

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like And that the more I remained detached And considering the reflection

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like The more I became unnatural And obsessed with my own protection

I walk through a world I don't like I walk through a world I don't like

“Good? Good is neutral. Good is not a force. Good is just being normal. You do one act of good, there’s always more good to get done. Evil has tentacles and just tries to get in everywhere and upset the order.”

"…and it had been a great time, but as the evening wore on, they eventually ran out of things to say to each other. Each knew every story and one-liner the other had. I couldn’t help but think how conjoined they must have been in their early years."

White van, one year to the day I saw the same make and model in the exact same place The front wheel wobbled, the dent I must have left The same silver ladder barely bolted to the back I got frantic, turned carefully, slowed down, let it pass

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“Brother Richard, can I ask you a question?” “yeah Pastor, of course” “Brother Richard, I’m hearing trouble in your voice, I have a service in about half an hour. Is there anything you want me to offer up for you in prayer?” “Pastor, there is…and I greatly appreciate it, but I’m in kind of an open forum here, and I’m not really comfortable…” “Brother Richard, Richard, I understand. I understand completely. God knows what’s in your heart, and God hears all, so say it silently and I’ll take that and offer it up to God on the altar this afternoon, and I’ll remember you by name today.”

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Silent low light night staring down the hall the tension hasn't lessened from the hell of the day and I keep thinking things can't continue this way She's in bed, been pretending to sleep for hours I don't know what she's concealing, we haven't been speaking and I'm out of ways to guess what tomorrow might bring My mind against my heart I feel them tear each other apart I need healing to calm this anxiety inside of me Constantly waking up before dawn looking for the ghost Circles in the carpet wondering when I'm alone or when I'll hear the voice For months, I've been locked and closed looking for consolation I need healing to stop my isolation I need healing to change my feelings I need healing for me to trust and to give I need healing to find strength and change how I live My mind against my heart I can feel them tear each other apart I need healing to stop this uncertainty inside of me I need healing to change my feelings

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Other titles in this series:

Radar/Grain- Tracing The Dim Signal- Water b/w Fingernail In My Salad- Scatter- Scatter/Mild Life/T. & W.- Life Isn't Hard b/w Mild Life- The Aluminum Farm- The Zen Transference Manual- It Went Red- The First Four Years- Splish!- The Splish! Supplement- Splish Reconsidered- Swim To The Center- Oranges- Present- Communism Is Grand- The Sampler- Statements Anti Statements- Sunrise On The Caina Islands- Remember b/w Thank You- Your Future Your Freedom- This Is What Freedom Looks Like

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