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
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