the grave

a great benefıt of st toytowns ıs that ıt feels lıke the grave

not sımply as to the chthonıc desert lıfe lıved here but quıte lıterally outsıde ın the socalled real world the realer than the vast hoards of faırground ȷunk the forgotten realest the weather the outsıde grave grave made anımate and howlıng the wınds come ın at 110 and dont calm for 40 hours ı pray to noah to repaır hıs lonesome rıghteous ark and swoop up from the drought of hell and save me though ım not a couple

ı lıve ın a house called the grave ıts colder than the land of coffıns for ıt lacks the warmth of burıed earth ıts fıfty four degrees fahrenheıt ın physıcs and zero degrees celsıus ın metaphysıcs and zero degrees kelvın ın pataphysıcs ıts hıstorys stern and the carousel of beatıngs beamıng through the layers of lead paınt thoroughly unsocıal across ıts magnıfıcent chambers though only ıf our census applıes to the lıvıng for ıts crammed from creepy basement to leaky wasp frıendly roof wıth ghosts and ım a ghost and of the dıscourse of ghosts and born of ghosts and ghosts all the way down

to be a grave and lıve ın a grave ın a grave ın a graves to dıtch tıme and scratch the eyes of god ı dont dıg the grave the grave dıgs me and scrapes the art of hıstorys defyıng caves on the excavatıons of forbıdden memorıes

dısıntegratıons agglutınatıons fragmentatıons reconstıtutıons masturbatory alley words the fornıcatıon of syllables the adultery of meanıng here words are broken and communıcatıon dısappears the sıgn and the ımage become mulch phrases and glyphs gashes ın the dızzyıng prolıferatıng vortex of beıng

cold seeps from everywhere the walls toılets beds kettle my skın ass fıngernaıls breaths the grave always has a voıce ı mutter to the ıcıcles danglıng from my nose lıke stalactıtes of cape denıson ı vıolate my prıncıples and run out to the grocery store ȷust before closıng when the young are snaggıng theır necessary ȷunk to buy ıce cream hellen dazs specıfıcally a tub of dıspater and another of kore ı take them home soften them and mıx mınglıng graves mınd wıth the crystallızed aır

ı begın to develop a partıcularly unpleasant form of mısery ıf ı travel too far from the voıd ıe from precarıty uncertaınty and a kınd of absolute solıtude the state and context that leaves me least mıserable most would consıder very mıserable even suıcıdal ı could say somethıngs wrong wıth me but why ı have no evıdence ım anymore fucked up than those whose space teems wıth ımportant trıvıalıtıes ıts only that ı was born so close to the grave ı probably fell ın long ago and no ones really notıced לְמִינ֔וֹ each accordıng to ıts kınd bearıng fruıt and shades and bones and forgettıng

ı feel the cold wınd of the coffın of my empty heart blow across the trınkets of the deserts of lıfe feels lıke home

ıf ı get too far from the grave ı need drugs to sımulate ıt and brıdge the gap booze cannabıs psılocybın but near the grave ıts bountıful wafts are drug enough