urıȷ

or

the petıtıo prıncıpıı of the

worlds most spectacular underground

the atlantıs metro tamsebyaızdata as its sometimes clandestinely called by locals glows with a purgative luminosity at this hour and it draws copulators down from the caves away from domestic abstractions and drones the futile and dispossessed and their liturgies of failure out of the terrors of interiority into terrors of structured mendacity into labyrinths of repression and stultifying prejudices of the powerful what brings them down these lost utopians from the caves of dreams

they sometimes fornicate on the shoals of the city in preparation for the hour sad thrustings against the vast middens of the wealthy and dogs and cows like rats rummaging alongside so one has to take care not to mistake a hole or proboscis and find oneself joined with another species and enjoying it more than ones own and what to do then in the sectors of dissonance

all the forests of the island are torn down for its construction but general urıȷ ıvınıvıchs celebrated as a grand national hero and the main line square boulevard academy park edifice prize seaport bear his name and who could deny its comprehensive impressiveness in every possible respect more stations than new york more beauty than moscow longer than shanghai older than london busier than tokyo smellier than paris more dangerous than são paulo dirtier than manila more crowded than delhi deeper than pyongyang more nonexistent than karachi more serene than stockholm one could enter and never leave and not live badly and some do its said sleeping in emergency hatchways feeding from windswept empanadas and patties smeared onto the exterior walls of marginal comms booths and signals of illused transfer tracks who can hold the representation of the system at once in ones mind and who can truthfully say shes been to each station and climbed those eternal stairs

the trains look like colossal squids and their bioluminescence can be seen at great distances even around lengthy corners as they scour the intricate and unmappable network of tamsebyaızdata and heavy pelagic moans roam the tunnels which even maintenance personnel whove been slaving for 40 years and whose pensions are so byzantine hrs lost all track of them cant fathom and routinely never timeout and are presumed extinct after the legally required passing theres the story of the exıgumenı fılıpı dı fılıpı lıppı whod only been doing garbage on one of the oldest lines for a few weeks and didnt show to clockout one morning and yet nine years after being presumed extinct shes found quite alive shagging in a pile of new tourist passes and few questions are asked and shes back to work stories like this circulate among the operators and security investigative officers the booth people and tactical infrastructure auditors portal service rangers and bioluminescent trackers the entire massive incomprehensible bureaucracy that keeps the trains moving 247 and without too many deaths from the lowliest urinal licker to the most licked executive they all have stories and lıppıs one of the few whos returned

as the linesre uncountable and the services fluid and the stations all named urıȷ for honour and glory and simplicity and restraint one takes ones chances in ones transit and for this the citizens are grateful this synecdoche of life bylaw 401|28b states clearly that the department of motile ingress and impetuous egress must no less frequently than every 900 hours move each station a distance of not less than 12.029746 fathoms including a set of procedures so monumental interpretations are rarely regulated or enforced pertaining to the specifications of entrances and exits and their relation not only to the socalled host station but to each other and an energy system of their environs which while not anything like fengshui has a certain similarity of architectural and geographical necessity propelling and constraining it

so into this monstrous scene into the oldest largest longest dirtiest lowest busiest smelliest most beautiful dangerous crowded serene metro ever envisioned or constructed after having intentionally screwed a few woebegones on rancid cumuli and a few hinnies by accident on the shoals of this indescribably great island and city she enters at urıȷ station and descends many stairs and elevators and infinite stairs and stairs and escalators and stairs until she feels shes on the very doormat of hades and navigates as quickly as possible for the purgative hour approaches with a speculative urgency the endless connecting tunnels past minstrels and troubadours of the most derelict descriptions who sound like tortured toads on toppling helicopters and the homeless and clothesless legless loveless and foodless clawing at her like inept demons and she finds a sign to urıȷ station and pushes to the very farthest reaches of the platform and removes her underpants and searches the eyes of those around for a luminous copulator to enter  

we communicate by samızdat

dont know why you do that

ruled by dogs but incorrigibly cats

we live by stealth and secrets

inhabitants of grand atlantıs

we live in chaos but live for coitus

dont matter if its the mouth or anus

a farce to play or a play to be serious

nice to no were goin knowhere soon

theres just the spoon

of love and a damsel in my fly

whod then or now not then importune

for metro loves more metro loves

its all after all just petıtıo prıncıpıı