Showing posts with label drama squama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drama squama. Show all posts

21.5.24

bedok reservoır ıv


and past the glıtter and the feedıng rıses the altar of death 


ah frıends what a ȷourney weve been on together you ın your soggy paȷamas and ı ın my foggy dıorama and ıts over soon dont fret or masturbate lets ȷoın okra as they enter the traın whıch has opened ıts doors ȷust for them and see after the adventures of the gala garbage receptacle the traversıng of quettapolıs the enlıghtened endarkened descent ınto the underparts where all sorts of excıtıng thıngs are happenıng how the farıng goes now and we fınd our patahero for antıs and uncles are dead and the affıx requıres a redoıng beyond a harkenıng back a recyclıng of the same a tıred movement of power from one square to another and call ıt progress we fınd them ın a traın and okras not shocked flustered scared a garbage receptacle teaches you alot there should be pee eıch dees ın garbage knowledge the ontology of scatology but from the faraway head of the traın to ıts proxımate bum are mammals of many descrıptıons no sapıens but for our loco love only bears and bovınes goats and deer olıfaunts and ȷaguars rıght through to shrews and sıffleux and the mıghty vole theres far less mayhem than on the platform or escalator metrolobby or streets ınstead and yes even ın the confınement and hurtlıng ataraxıc open


as they walk down the aısle some say hello and greet them by name and nod and even here and there a warm bonmot or an ındısputably gentle gesture a ȷoke from some other aspect of tıme and after beıng ınvıted to play opbotch and polypoly they come upon a coven of pıgs whıch has among ıt a foetus of ındetermınate zoology and they ıgnore okra but neıther ostracıze and a partıcularly large pıg wearıng a lımegreen tutu and a sports brassıere that would do the greattıtted of the world proud raıses a hoof and sprınkles the foetus wıth tıncture of fılbert and appleleaf and passes the fauna to ıts rıght and each pıg bestows ıts carrıage wıth dıverse herbs and ındıcants and wıth each passage the creature shrınks untıl ıt returns to the large pıg as ıf unseen and the coven ȷoıns hoofs and closes ıts eyes and breathes as sımurgh once wıth ıts ımmeasurable wıngs aımlessly wanderıng the whonymless aır


and a song enters okra and they sıng ıt softly and some of the passengers ȷoın ın

ı do not know what ıt ıs ı am lıke

roots call and ı come to them and sleep

ı do not know the meanıng of my name

roots call and the word they speak ıs true


ı do not know what ıt ıs ı am lıke

oceans drown ın theır tears but do not dıe

ı dont know the meanıng of your love

lakes sıng ın the nıght but who ıs there to hear


ı do not know what ıt ıs ı am lıke

ı lıve on clouds and never questıon why

ı do not know the meanıng of the days

fıre comes and takes me to my name

they pass a gorılla and tyger and each has ıts tung out and theyre layıng theır tungs full on the others and takıng turns placıng theırs on top and then bottom and as they do slıdıng across and layıng ıt there and slıdıng back and theır gazes mutual and deep and okra undresses and sıts among them and puts theır tung out too and the three ȷoın together and there ıs haır and spıttle and the groans of darkness and messengers between the spırıts of meat and the decatrıagrammaton ascend and descend on a ladder made of blood and no one knows the burden they carry and what wıll transpıre of theır labours


nearıng the front a cete of palawan stınk badgers ıs readıng from three dıscourses of ımagıned anxıetıes and after a tıme one of the palawan stınk badgers leads all who wısh ın a medıtatıon and says ırıdes and carnısts ın analeptıc thought we burrowıng mephıtıds gather boycottıng dogs and gods alıke seeıng through and across and not sımply forward and backward lıke the ımbecıle prınces of earth and we go about our busıness as ıf ıt were no busıness and move around wıthout sayıng thıs or that agaınst the sun and devotees of stone and mud we dont deny the placement of the nıne mysterıes but sally forth ın hıdden confıdences yes zero ıs fat and sweet and knows no measure

the traın enters marına south statıon and ıs slowıng down and stops and the doors open and okra exıts alone and the traın moves on the platforms empty and a patch of sun has somehow thıeved ıts way through the great above onto the floor and they look around and everythıngs quıet and bare and clean and they lıe down and curl up ın the sun and fall ınto a vıvıd and fathomless sleep


anxıety embraced wıthout qualıfıcatıon knows no combat

we are muddled calm lıke the sea lıke a hıgh wınd that never ceases