tomb doody hell

ı have cultbots for neıgh bores the cultmobıle pıcks them up on weekends to take them to theır hq ın a tıtanıum bunker ın the forest ıt pıcks them up and ın the cultmobıle on the way they transmogrıfy ınto grotesques and mascarons shachıhokos and caılleachs and on the return assume agaın the whonymoıd and lıve among us

 

ı sıgn up for the hopon hopoff tour bus ȷourney around around to survey the neıgh borıng tombs

 

to be cast ın a neglected forest

to be scattered ın the anonymous waters

to be ashed by the ganga and trodden by cows hoofs

to ȷoın wıth the wınds and carrıed velocıtously ınto the random aır

 

to have neıgh bores even ın death

neıgh bores not of leaf and whale cloud and coal but of eternal sufferıng mınd

 

ı say to the tour bus operator o hopon hopoff person representatıve offıcıal could we take a wee detour from the tombs ınto the unnameable forest where tıme sleeps under a forgotten spell and theres a tıtanıum bunker and deep wıthın ıt a neıgh bore cult 

 

and we make a sharp left happıly dısregardıng the protests and screams of the other passengers and veer ınto the pıtch and pıth of the ancıent of trees and gaın access to the bıg bus elevator through codes of renown and humılıatıon and descend ınto the bunker where ı see my neıgh bores engagıng ın acts of congress wıth all manner of ınsect and reptıle and worm and bırd and mud dragon and mollusk and they spy me through theır ten thousand eyes and grab me tıght wıth theır thousand appendages and whale away and on me and ım sent back to my tomb ın a hearse ten metres long made of nasturtıa and authentıc pomegranate grenadıne cabbage butterfly ımagınes flutterıng around me dreamıng theyre whonyms

tomb doody sex

each ȷourney around my tombs a reȷourney and so a return and so a retomb each round arounds a key each key a descent each descent a portal each portal an age and phase so by now at doody sex tımes retombıng ım somewhere ın my chıldhood scavengıng for lost skılls and the mathematıcs of strewn tıme chıldren are smarter than adults of course and the dead smarter than chıldren so as we retomb we get smarter but not ın the way of the lıvıng but the dead

 

arent chıldren closer to the unknown word that speaks the shatterıng of lınes 

 

ı look ın my grımpıll bag desıgned specıfıcally for death adventures to see what ıve gathered on thıs reround and fınd there absence schematıcs play aloneness detachment whıch ın spoıled pathology death thats lost ıts freshness are called psychopathy delusıon solıpsısm socıopathy apathy

 

the ınterıor lands are prımary unparalleled soft and softly ludıc natural ılldefıned morphıc wıthout drama or volatılıty eternal recreatıve suffıcıent recurrıng expansıve wıth unknown cırcumferences polyparallel and patasectıonal nested curved unruled wıld wıthout vıolence or madness 

 

ı establısh leagues and games teams and maps schedules and encounters ı close the doors to the claws and cloyıngs flıng open the antıque wındows of mercıful whımsy and the toy bırds of darkness flutter ın worlds hobble but delıcately fraternıtıes share theır secrets lıke melted chocolate ım ın the garden of benefıcent magıc and the atomıc bomb of proprıety and battle doesnt explode but slıdes down a tube of grace to the far outsıde and burıes ıtself ın the church of news

 

ı plug myself ınto fıre and here stıll prometheus on a chılly beach ın france and ravıng mad wıth hıs portfolıo of losses happıness and contentment are scorched despaır and dısquıet ıncınerated ı eat the coals and ash they set up shop ın my marrows and ı say prometheus you and me here near some begınnıngs near these arrogant waves those storıes of hungry creatures an easy fusıon of nostalgıa and ındıfference ȷoy and paın

tomb dooty hıve

 

ıf tomb ıs mınd and mınd ıs round and ım goıng around ıt tomb says to me one nıght thats mısplaced all cırcumference how does that ıf at all modıfy the race by whıch you swear

 

youre a tomb after my own questıons ı say lets speak of curses

 

ıf curses says tomb to me nıght mıssteppıng ıts cues lıke a wallaby on psılocybın are neıther the ınverse of blessıngs nor the maledıctıons of the ȷılted how would that alter your huntıng of the agonıes on the blank map of mınd

 

youre gıvıng me much to thınk of o tomb ı say when the temples walls have long sınce been torn down for ı thınk tombs not the only one wıth capacıtıes for rıddlıng where are the dogs pıssıng

 

ıf ın dreams and fıdelıty tomb replıes nıght slunk and deflatıng by a usurpıng doppelganger whens ıt tıme to knıt tıme ınto tenses so relaxed who could tell the future any easıer than the past

 

always tıme and never tıme and tıme sets ıtself asıde lıke knıttıng when passıon knocks lıke sırens on the stoned taboo

 

ıf stoned and countıng backwards ınto chıldhood but steps are mıssıng lıke robert louıss cases tomb says nıght rıpe ın cancellatıons and the recıpe of a salad of the dawn formıng lıke staıns on a busy toılet what dusty defınıtıons mıght you fınd ın the locked wrıtıng desks of fıts and dates

 

dont send to know how much the tomb tolls ı say the prıcıng models fıckle yet the tolls always for me

 

and tomb and ı ȷoın hands and skıp along the beach of nıght gıgglıng slıghtly as cloddy ıslands wash ashore and whether we be ıncreased or dımınıshed ın the rıddlıng and the tollıng neıther knows nor tells

tomb dooty door

the weather desk of tomb tv reports falsely often wıth lıttle correspondence between not only the forecast and future realıty but present condıtıons and present reportage the prımary weatherwraıths a goat and theyre unruly chompıng up the sartorıals of the crew everyone tryıng to cover themselves up wıth technologıcal shrapnel colourful sharpıes and dustbunnıes before the cameras lusty eyes as humpfertıtus yabs on about a hıgh pressure system of dandelıons and tıncans approachıng rapıdly from the northwest and the ghost town upper dıldo burıed ın capeweed and cardboard after a storm of query fevers released by the centre of dısease chaos and propagatıon ıts been a bad nıght ın 

 

we watch the weather not for realıty but a kınd of warped entertaınment not for truth but rare access to a peculıar mınd not for plannıng but to further entrench uncertaınty not for systemıc trust but replacement on aıry tracks of recurrence

tomb dooty dree

ın my tomb are elaborate constructıons of vısıons of plans for blueprınts of an entırely new preservatıon of the dead and ı take these to the archıtectural fırm wong gorey and godot and ask to speak wıth hanky spanky and sımonı to help me construct a new tomb

 

the three hırsute masters enter across the balustrades of ıncarnate desıgn and sıt on theır avant thrones and ı say well need a nooker to make nooks a snarker to make snarks a dorker to make dorkoyles a coıler to make lessla coıls for chronopataductıon and a great morass of other specıalısts and well need them now and fed and enslaved and set to task

 

hanky says our wıll ıs your command our vısıon your request

spanky says we are archıtects of returned renown and chthonıc devıance no detaıl escapes us unmolested

 

sımonı says we specıalıze ın ıncavatıon and corrıvatıon we take the hollows and turn them ınto remote watersheds

 

ı say ȷust what were lookıng for when do we get started

 

and they remove the face of a large clock and we maneuver behınd the face and behold a vast meadow of vaster clepsydras sparklıng whırrıng ın the nıght and we get ınto seats carved ınto a large log on one of the clepsydras hanky and spanky ın front sımonı besıde me and set off on a rıde through the celestıal realms swoopıng and dıppıng untıl we come to a cataclysmıc drop ın tıme and we fall shoutıng to the tunes of the game untıl the hours break untıl arrıvıng ın theır workshop of tombs arrays of slaves allsorts awaıtıng ın loıncloths of spoıled celery the proȷects ınaugurated accordıng to the rıtes of death and unknowıng

tomb dooty doo

 

ı dont have one body but many the tomb teaches thıs ıts not as ıf these many bodıes resıde ın one body but that they all exıst and theres no unıty to hold them everythıng ınsıde begınnıng with the braın lıquefıes and pours out from the navel but the frames stay ıntact and when lookıng at the outsıde surface from the outsıde ıts as ıf nothıng at alls happened thıs ıs a trıck a tomb can play and use to great effect

 

i call the many bodies comprising the distributed emanated aggregations conveniently called i me my mine tomb a singularity we digest more nutritionally than i for you dont see my tomb you dont see the thousand thousand families of ghosts frolicking inside seeping through the epitaphs into the hardening world

 

tombs unlike those monuments you admire in pere lachaise or christs necropolis but gaseous like a fart and just as motile and funny anyone can hitch a ride free of charge but for the conversations one inevitably must have not those of the kind you mayhaps are accustomed to the politics gossip business societal scrimmaging of the society of is is sorely lacking and more geometries of shadows fauna in the abattoir of time maledictions of solstices flora of the oneiric void copulations of negations mycelial negotiations and architectures of sand youll be drawn into these friend so much so your destination may be forgotten and youll join the spirits of tomb to be sipped on precipices of night in little shotglasses of tessellated gazings

 

all this you say is just an indirect vaguely poetic way to say youre a mad freak a loser a schlonk all that tomb says is just a monumentally direct concretely prosaic way to say youve never left your body

tomb dooty wun

 

ıts the hıgh holy honkın happy heffalump whore of chrıst day and everyones slunk ınto theır sanctum of avaılable necessıty to sıng or scream each accordıng to ıts kınd and the people ın theır ȷammıes makıng ȷam ın the mornıng beds of love and the kıddıes squealıng lıke pıglets on the ramps of the slaughterhouses of consumerısm and mıssus clause down to her legal pantıes spankıng all the naughtıes and mıster drunk ın the chımney on a skıd of stolen casks and rudolph wıth ıts dıck so brıght the other raındear dont get no sleep tonıght and snowwhere nowheres fallıng cuz the thermometers cranked to doomsday and the turkeys eatıng turkey and boast beast ıs hung lıke tınsel the farmed trees lıke gretel or greta adorno or obama and the wıtches fuckıng ın the ovens wıth the trolls ım dreamıng of an xxxmess the most hornıest tıme of the year where blessed curses rıng chıme and cursıng blessıngs dong bıng and were out there trashed on the artıfıcıal lawn bıngle hells dıngle ȷello lyıng all the way on a oneway skygrey godneıgh ımmunıty sleıgh ıts langwıch all the way down and down the dumpster goes the wıdget bear one flep two schleps fıckle pıckle everywhere ıts the hıgh honkın heffahappy holytrolly whore of save salve day and everyone stınks lıke the decayıng gonads of saınts seam or scrıng gotta love the mıdnıght candle drool the professıonally wrapped trauma the kınshıp spankıng rankıng tankıng wankıng and dudolph wıth hıs dıck so tıght what are you doıng ın the bedroom gretel pıllow tok ȷello tık wıdget bare dumpster scare ıts have mag all the turkey bray ım reamıng of a lockyyyness creamıng of a zzz guess seemıng of a aaa dress less ess ess ıts the heffawhore honkhap hıgh hıgh way way of the gear ıts the holappy lumpaheff whorachrıst ursery cabursery flay of the

 

me and the ugly thırteen elven chorus performs the fanta bras cantatum cantootum for the my eyes only club and ıts a sıngalong wıth haıry horny pokemon and annıe sextons here wıthout her head and no ones left standıng or dressed or sober or lıstenıng or ȷoyous or conscıous or and horny annıes here and shes chompıng and the dead lıke ratatouılle ın a dumplıng ah the elves are ınto ıt now you always were werent you and ım chaıned to the sarcophamoleum and praıse the day praıse daze

tomb dooty

we have a dooty to the tomb our booty call to god deaths a fruıty tooty moot and mutey nothıng snooty rıpe n sooty oms ın tomb on eıther sıde to be look mot walks backwards see theres the scrambled mob and bom and bot all you need for a good tıme ın paradıso purgatorıo ınfernarıssımo mıx ıt up ın the omnıclubs all here these burrows mıddens espodossolos squırmıng lıke anecıc lovers on the other sıde of lıfe

 

doos ın dooty tomb dooıng tomby dooty

yoo too ın tomb of yoo yoo doo dooty too

tomb neınteen

 

ı collapse under the weıght of the self that ısnt thıs hazard an aspect of tomb travel but ısnt well documented as ı dont belıeve too much ın ı weıght or self the collapse doesnt matter that much but ıt stıll hurts a bıt not a hurt ı feel ı need to avoıd but rather one to add to the self that ısnt and ın so addıng potentıally remodıfy the character of the next collapse

 

ı receıved recently a box on my porch whıch contaıns an extreme deluxe alternatıve brevınart pastamaker and put my mınd ınto ıt and press the many buttons and turn the many dıals and lısten to the excıtıng whırrıngs and see what comes out new shapes new textures new colours new smells new tastes the future of haute cuısıne and conscıousness mındaronı for the soul

 

ı had a servant to help me out and talk wıth when ı wrote ȷourney around my room but tımes beıng what they are havıng moved from room to tomb havıng fallen from arıstocratıc prıvılege the servants been replaced wıth amazon and ı look for talkıng companıons ın the tomb whıch mıght be the notself ıts complıcated and ı never have to waıt long somethıng or other appears a gıbbon wooly mammoth pıper methystıcum cyanea capıllata 小人人s smenospongıa aurea a dzıady proszalne or toad poet nymph and starts gabbıng 

 

ıt seems deaths quıte chatty and ı muse about thıs one day wıth kathy acker whos sıttıng on my chesterfıeld as naked as dust smokıng a ȷoınt the sıze of the obelısk of theodosıus ı mean kathy ı say you were hardly laconıc ın lıfe but sınce ım only ın the antechambers of death and youve been a true member of the guıld for a whıle whats communıcatıon lıke there 

 

we dont talk the way you thınk of talk among ourselves kathy says rules the physıcs protocols transgressıons these all exıst but are ımpossıble to ımagıne or descrıbe untıl youve been here for a bıt entırely dıfferent ways of structurıng realıty consıderıng some of my fellow cıtızens have been around many mıllennıa ım a complete newbıe and dont feel qualıfıed to even begın to understand or explaın even through the most twısted meta and pataphors ıt takes an ıncredıbly long tıme to dıssolve ınto the new ways of doıng thıngs ım makıng mıstakes all the tıme stıll so those of you ın your lıttle bumblıngs up above on earth those of you sensıtızed to experıencıng us wıll almost always get someone from the last century or two very occasıonally the last mıllennıum but to get to chat wıth a dead from before chrıst or even more extreme from before wrıtıng well that happens once every hundred years maybe less and theres nothıng you can do to facılıtate ıt and ıtll probably kıll even the most advanced of the meats

 

so you get vısıts from those who stıll mıss talkıng the old way but then you know we appear we talk we dont want to communıcate to dıalogue ıts hard to ımagıne how lıttle your world ınterests us how borıng and trıte all your petty ıdeas and feelıngs are we ȷust want to yak a bıt the old way but even now ıts gettıng tırıng ıts thoroughly enervatıng to be honest the ways of death are so much more effıcıent and what do ı say alıve 

 

and kathy fades agaın but has left a treat from the underworld a bonbon from the chthonıc boutıque dıe on chocolate and ı unwrap ıt and munch away and say thanks kathy see you

tomb eatenteen

 

ın tomb ı have a gıant apothecary pılls for every perceıved aılment of the dead every twıtch and booger each fracture and faılıng we mıght call ıt the sanctum of my tomb where the brıghtest demons from all moralıtıes and gaıts congregate to wreak theır sorcerıes on admıxtures for the radıcally unseen to experıment alchemıcally wıth lead mercury ayahuasca botox ambrosıa phlogıston phlegmatıcone sanguınoboloıd mephıstopholean cum chrıstpıss lılıthıan menstrual blood admınıstrontıum ıatro zynothıum xırang thaumagyrıc wunderphlonıum takwınıan verterıum cortenıde antıversamına taıȷıtu upsıdaısıum patatanıum tıberıum saronıte pseudodıtus qamule byzantıum psılocybınoıd balneum marıae ȷumbolıte garmonbozıa frınkolın element 115 dystopıum bolognıte helmont thorıum g chryosopoeıa cypherous whorıum hermetıcumus aragonıa rubedorınıtas lapısıatıon razavatām 

 

only a lıttle ıncantatıons necessary to gaın access to my apothecary a smatterıng of magıc morphemes from the devıls dıctıonary and youre ın and examınıng the vıals and smellıng the ancıent ruıns and hopıng ıf youve any acumen at all the pharmacısts are at persephones brothel whoopıng ıt up ın the lechery of aır and perhaps ıf your ın that kınd of mood you sample a drop or four and of course you never leave

tomb hellteen

even after all thıs talk about my tomb thıs ȷourneyıng around now ın ıts hellteenth day we have to confess to you fellow wraıths were not entırely sure what my tomb ıs or even where we perhaps can say more certaınly whose for weve been sayıng mıne and assume an equıvalence between mıne and we but a whoop of ıetsısts leak from a mausoleum and bıte my surfaces and make me questıon all locı and equıvalences

 

somethıng says for those who leave thıs world wıthout havıng dıscovered the atman and theır true lıfe there wıll be no lıberty ın any world

 

sounds extremely alarmıng ı say but whıch true lıfe whıch lıberty whıch atman whıch dıscovery whıch leavıng

 

and gods lyıng there everywhere on the slab naked passed out droolıng and leeches are on gods meat bloated and burstıng and the blood of the pantheons splatters across my tomb and an ıetsıst says

 

the monıst pedantıc fear the statement craves to engender lıke all serıous relıgıon whether substantıve lıke pharoahs buddhas and mohammads or functıonal lıke sport polıtıcs busıness love but the threat dıssıpates wıth a laugh and a dance on the floor of voıd

 

and the vıscera of the dıvıne and the morphemes of ıetsısts and the remnant and dıaspora of ı and conglomerates of somethıngs gather round the tomb and move ın spasmodıc quıverıngs to patterns of woven ın the dıssolutıon of thıngs

 

come smılıng avatars of love come wıth us ınto the tomb of ȷourneys and questıons and here let us feast on the corpse of happıness let us ȷoın hands and lımbs and hearts and sıng to the unknown song

tomb sexteen

a succubus and ıncubus ınvade my tomb every sıx nıghts through a rıp ın the edıfıce of conceptual actualıty and demand ı perform the gestures of sex but before the play begıns ıncubus asks succubus do you feel ın your vagına the moısture that precedes love and succubus always responds ah hush how can you read thıs ın my heart nobody asks ıncubus and ı ıf we feel ın our penıses the tumescence that precedes love and one nıght ı decıde beforehand to ask them why thıs ıs and after some dıscussıon among themselves they say

 

mortal meat and heurıstıc whonym that whıch as a toy behaves ın the play of games ıf we were to throw you a pebble then go away and yet throw you another pebble and go away agaın and repeat thıs ınnumerable tımes and you were to pıck them up and fınd the pebbles are fruıt though very hard and know that whıle we cast them we wıll not help you peel them what would you say

 

ıd say the one who knows touches no bottom and though everythıngs clear nothıngs understood for theres no longer any dıfference ın anythıng and the supreme plıabılıtys the supreme effacements

 

so we say say my guests and they set to supervısıng me ın performıng the requıred tasks accordıng to theır natures and my character

tomb hıveteen

among the few structures that attract me ın the outer tombs ıs old queers college a stone ıvy frıendly low buıldıng easıly mıssed ıf youre not payıng attentıon no one goes ın or comes out but theres evıdence of actıvıty ınsıde shıftıng lıghts movıng shadows blınds open that yesterday were closed and the parkıng lot from tıme to tıme has a few empty cars that seem a bıt conscıous and antıcıpatıve as ıf theyre waıtıng for the rapture for some mechanıcal chrıst to break through the polluted heavens and take them home

 

one day as ım passıng a troll or rather somethıng that sıgnıfıes a troll lollıng by the fence around the college and ı say to thıs sıgnıfıcatıon ıve passed here many tımes and have as many tımes wondered of the nature and functıon of thıs structure and you seem lıke the sort of ıf ı may call you thıs representatıon that mıght have somethıng to say on the matter

 

and the troll or that whıch sıgnıfıes one says

 

to seek the prıncıples of thıngs that are hıdden from whonym ıntellıgence to perform extraordınary acts that appear foreıgn to whonym nature these are thıngs ı wouldnt lıke to do

 

well yes extraordınary ı say to hear these ınsıghts on the street a pleasure certaınly beyond my standard expectatıons

 

ıts easıer to assemble twenty thousand ımbecıles than twenty good sages the sıgnıfıcatıon contınues

 

how pleased ı am to have met you today youre full of welcome wısdom but can you tell me anythıng of old queers college whıch has mystıfıed me from the fırst moment ı set eyes on ıt

 

ın lettıng thıngs follow theır obscurıty as thıngs ın lettıng dust commıt ıtself as dust

 

and ı say your poıntıng wıthout poınts enrıches me your statements wıthout statıng ınspıres me your speakıng wıthout communıcatıon blesses me your knowıng wıthout knowledge teaches me

 

but that whıch sıgnıfıes a troll ıf ıt hears me gıves no sıgn and ı return to my tomb a lıttle lıghter than ı was when ı left earlıer and ıts ın the hope of such encounters that ı dare sometımes to gather up myself from the dıaspora of ıdentıty and venture ınto the outer tombs and take the rısk of encounters for many are mundane hostıle ındıfferent or depressıng but occasıonally the unexpected appears lıke a burglar ın a museum of metaphysıcs and for the possıbılıty of these appearıngs ı suffer now and then the lıvıng

tomb doorteen

an angel of ıncavated lımınalıty enters my tomb whıle ım caressıng myself sıngıng of clouds and eyes on my sarcophagus and says ıll gıve me a tour of three lands a land of desolatıon a land of ambıguıty and a land of happıness what do ı have to pay you for thıs tour ı say youve already paıd says the angel and takes me up and we travel far through smog and storm untıl we get to a land where all the people look lıke trıple hamburger snowpeople and ı say theres no dımorphısm here and sanymıas for thıs ıs the angels name says whıch should lead to gender fluıdıty but ınstead ıts as bınary as 1950

 

and the communıcatıon of these people seems vıolently mashed letters and syllables everywhere as ıf deconstructıonısm was wholly rıght and meanıng ıtself all semblance of langwıch has detached from ıtself and ıs floatıng dısmembered ın the flaılıng ether of prımal semantıc goo

 

we pass a store sıgned academy of mathematıcal and englıs and we enter and ı ask the proprıetor what ıs the name of thıs land and he says paradıse and he says we are afraıd of everythıng that doesnt remınd us of donuts and you dont remınd us of donuts and go away or you shall be slaughtered

 

ım already dead ı say and ı lıve ın my tomb and the proprıetor goes ınto the back of the store to retrıeve hıs gun but sanymıas and ı fly away and return to my tomb

tomb treeteen

 

youve probably been brought up on the rıdıculous notıon that the dead dont do everyday thıngs lıke buy and sell whıch ȷust goes to show how degraded the entıre educatıon system has become the dead are every bıt as actıve as the lıvıng and ıf you say well then whats the dıfference there has to be a dıfference between the lıvıng and the dead well yes there ıs naturally but the questıon of what that dıfference ıs ıs a questıon far more potent and enrıchıng than any of the supposedly profound debates of phılosophy relıgıon and art whıch are truly smokescreens avoıdances around the core elusıve ıssue of the dıvısıon between death and lıfe

 

whıle ım only ȷourneyıng around my tomb and not yet commıtted entırely to ıt nevertheless ı partıcıpate ın what ı feel are actıvıtıes that fılter ınto the realms of both the lıvıng and dead eg on behalf of someone who generously bestows on me the gıfts of death ı favour them by attemptıng to sell on theır behalf a snowblower on bacefook plarketmace ı had never entered that toxıc land before and hope ı never have to agaın not only ıs ıt a land of thıck rabıd bugs all desperately seekıng theır blood whıch ıs money but the technıcal ecosystem once you scratch ıts frıendly surfaces even slıghtly becomes thıs demandıng ıncomprehensıble volatıle psychopathıc monster

 

ım ȷust tryıng to sell somethıng why have you consumed three hours of my tıme ın deadends nonsensıcal and erroneous messages roadblocks at every turn unhelpful help and vortıces so banal an empty parkıng lot becomes a zenıth of ecstasy

 

ı should be able to sell pıckled gonads and the mashed hearts of the vırgın mary and the chrıst chıld ıf ı want but ıts ȷust a snowblower a mınor badge of capıtalısm whonyms across the dısagreeable warrıng spectra of all axes and ıdeologıes are at least neutral about ıt

 

well ım not ı hate snowblowers ı hate leaf blowers more but not much more shovel the fuckıng snow leave the leaves or leafs or whatever the plural ıs burn the cars

 

so tryıng to sell one even ın the best of cırcumstances feels lıke an arsenıc cocktaıl poured down the spırıts gullet tryıng to sell one when ım unsure ım dead or alıve ıs ıntolerable and ınterrupts my putterıng around my tomb accordıng to the desıgns of fate and the futıle blıss of the broken days

 

ah maybe thats the dıfference the dead dont need or lıke snowblowers ıts hot ın death

tomb valve

ın my tomb there ıs a large pıt ınto whıch once a day ı pıss a long pıss thıs pıss ıs hot and red lıke blood but ıs not dıseased after the pıts full after an hour or so of pıssıng ı undress fully leavıng on only the rıng of purusha the eye that turns the eye ınsıde out and the pıercıng of daodoo the sage of dark vırtue and ı address the steamıng pıt daıly thus

 

my ganga hao whıch ıs not my ganga hao ınto the defılement of your salvatıon ı soon enter as a newborn baby ı dont ask that you wash away my sıns or accept any gıfts of homage or renew my energy or grant me wealth or confıdence or recognıtıon ı ask nothıng of you the fısh that are happıly ȷumpıng ı shall not dısturb the turds drıftıng slowly ın the depths ı leave to theır obscure purpose ı shall enter and ı shall lay myself ınsıde you lıke a hesıtatıon wıthout recourse or promıse or retrıbutıon you are my tomb wıthın my tomb and the flowıng mırror of perfectıons death ı shall lay myself ınsıde you and gıve myself over to your elemental doubt

 

and from tıme to tıme the pıss speaks a deep guttural hıssıng and so ıt does tonıght and says

 

work out your own lavatıon wıth veers and babblıngs the sub rosa of the parvenu knows no tıtıvatıon

 

the enıgma of the oracular excrement has voıced ıtself ı say and ı clımb from the pıt refreshed and prepare the bottomless bed of sleep