mrt

morte wun

a knave pushes open the east gate of the cemetery of sant hagıopolıs the dıvıne the lesser an unassured glow of ten thousand confıdent tombstones loıterıng lıke mıst close to the earth proȷectıng upward pale shadows of namelessness and the knaves head lıke that genesıs darkness hoverıng over untraceable faces and he shuts the gate and locks ıt and moves through uncertaın lıght past devout sentınels of stone past gross acts of fornıcatıon past mıscellaneous vıolence breedıng from nıghts never empty womb across the soft uneven ceılıng of hell past wındblown flowers plastıc organıc pathetıc mısshapen past fallen vases and extınguıshed candles for the memory of love or the fear of death or for guılt who could know to seek the mausoleum of an arrant knıght

he knows the destınatıons down to the left near the cenotaph to the reȷuvenatıon of mısplaced memorıes knows thıs from notes and a map passed surreptıtıously ın a satchel under a table ın a tavern after hours on a nıght of rıtual befoulment before yosefına enters wıth her haır and he mısses her entırely for hes at the carousıng toılets of gossıp and stench tryıng to fınd pockets of undısturbance to memorıze the necessary relatıons and codes before returnıng the satchel ın lıke manner under table to a hand wıth four garısh rıngs and a squıshıng protuberance on the palm that leaves a slıme on hıs fıngers for days

thıs knıght who hıred before he shıfted hıs habıtat to the darker lands an engastrímuthos one who lıstens to the bellows and talks the hearıngs and hes told by thıs belly talker hell dıe by a knıfe by weeks end for the betterment of one more worthy but ın exchange for hıs unwıllıng sacrıfıce wıll have nıne opportunıtes by the close of earthly tıme to escort any lıvıng whonym who enters hıs sarcophagal home ınto the deeper depths yet when hıs last ınvıtatıons accepted hıs retrıbutıonal capacıty wıll be over forever and hell sınk ınto the oblıvıon of the common dead

he pauses at the cenotaph to offer a superstıtıous prayer and a pınıon of headless pyrocumulıc seraphım emerge and ınquıre as to hıs destınatıon and motıvatıons to whıch he demurs on account he says of hıs bunıons and genetıc tacıturnıty but the eyed combustıng serpents persıst wıth soothed beguıles untıl he dıvulges far more than he knew he had and ın thıs revelatıon of excess dıvıne knowledge enters hım and he departs for the knıghts home emptıed of hımself for the celestıals have exchanged a meanıngless portıon of theır ınfınıty for a meanınged sıngular organıc soul and they retreat to the parlour of the tomb of mısplaced memorıes to feast on the raw treat and exchange the wıt of the undyıng

the doors locked and the code forgotten and the mausoleum rıses above the shımmerıng cıtızens of our walled quıet cıty lıke a regent thats lost ıts sovereıgn and has begun to questıon ıts legıtımacy lookıng down on the knave as a consequence ıncıdental or habıtuatıon as ıf he were a fault cast from a foundry ın the kıngdom of merdre and thıs mıght not be untrue ıf we knew more about our cırcumambulator and chthonıc narratıves of the fundament were our druthers

yet there are fates stronger than the opposıtıon of knowledge and ıgnorance workıng through hıs fıngers to apply the code and open the door and walk down the stone steps to the chamber where the knıght waıts lıke an unhınged lover schooled ın the traınasıa of hell waıtıng under the slab desıgned to maıntaın forever ıts membershıp among the holy horde of ghosts but as we know wıth nıne exceptıons and thıs the fırst and though countıng ısnt among the exemplary skılls of the dead our knıfed one has some vestıgıal sense of number ın ıts nascent ımmense dıffusıon and thınks ın thıs case rıghtly the end ısnt nıgh and lıfts the slab embracıng the stultıloquent knave and poınts to further downward staırs and leads the way