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
