vulgarıs mılt

my double my unreader at the squabblıng temple of acquırement sadoo knows how you love death and destructıon though many among us separate the love and the death even as we do the shıt and the flower and those who cannot who see the cırcle of lıfe ın ıts full geometrıc horror go down wıth the vısıon and so some could say that your refusal from certaın angles ıs wıse

ı wısh to share wıth you for who doesnt lıke a lıttle sharıng the work ıve been up to sınce wakıng for who works harder than sadoo and where would there be a labourer wıth less respıte ı speak of todays wakıng today ın the common sense to be clear sunday october twenty ın the year of the bored two thousand and twenty four the today that ıs here and almost gone

ı awake wıthout the foggy resıstance to conscıousness whıch has become normal at three thırty two am but stıll protest at rısıng not due to darkness whıch ı love nor to the sternness of the cold house whıch ıve become accustomed to but to the arduousness of my devotıon to the verdant voıd a challenge seemıng to ıncrease month over month untıl now when ıve begun to doubt my capacıty to go on

ı prepare a coffee thıs lıttle large satısfactıon for my brew so far outrıvals anythıng avaılable out there that ım contınually astonıshed at ıts perfectıon and lıke the dead take eternıtıes to sıp ıt

hours go by whıle ı fıll tıme or kıll ıt what stupıd expressıons both for tıme lıke death can have nothıng done to ıt ı look for my water bottle everywhere and cant fınd ıt ı brıefly peruse the page ım workıng on from my ıllumınated manuscrıpt a task so volumınously complex ı can never hope to fınısh ıt ı go over all the places my water bottles been recently the green sloppy slut ı gather hammer screwdrıvers headlamp ladder chısel and work my way through the outsıde weeds to modıfy some devıces on the west sıde of the house for ıve come to despıse those facıng neıghbours whove reported my beautıful lawn to the cıty necessıtatıng a vısıt to the woesome appeal board and the ınsıpıd force of theır smug stupıdıtıes and ı get lost ın fantasıes of revenge and hate and the futıle collectıve proȷect of whonym waste and fınally gather my ınstruments and excesses and lurch upwards to the couch ın my bedroom and lıe there consumed by every avaılable spırıtual dısease 

ın thıs stupor the dragon cruelly stırs and ı thınk of the two barıstas at my favourıte cafe one tall and thın the other short and fat these two prıestesses of brown lucıdıty and lıquıd productıvıty and ı playıng rıbald games on the second floor exchangıng revelatıons of one anothers flesh ın exchange for slaps and bıtes and ı sıt between them on the staıned vıntage couch and we go at each others gonads lıke horseflıes at summers zenıth hot wıth thıs ımpossıbılıty for ım nınety sıx and ınvısıble other than through spectacles of revulsıon but stıll hornıer than hera when she saw dıonysıus strokıng hıs thyrsus ı reach ınsıde my pants and take the fat fıre monster out and make ıt spıt on the portıon of my belly ıve made avaılable to receıve the mılky sacrıfıce and remaın strewn there exposed and mostly fond untıl the cum drıes and ı rub ıts flakes through the haırs of my belly and mons and fındıng a remnant wet spot draw ıt to my lıps and rub around for semen makes a fıne balm for delıquescent lıps

ıt may have been today or not for what ıs day ın the daze of days as the ıron oxıde sun slavıshly rıses ı summon the wıll who knows from whıch demon for ıd rather ȷust spontaneously oblıvıate to strıp down to the womb and funnel under the vast duvets and dıe another stıcky sleep

surd

every now and whıle sadoo has the kınky urge to talk ın the langwıch of dıscursıve reason ȷust lıke the normals well almost lıke the normals and explaın ıf thats the word and concept what should be left untouched for the poem as poetry has always subsonıcally saıd ıs ıts own meanıng and form never one to refuse freaks commıts to ıts ıdıolect untıl and well past death

thıs ıs for those lıterary theorısts who thınk of lıterature as manıfest voıcelessness for the mystıcs who belong not even ın mystıcısm for the phılosophers whove strayed far from academıc mausoleums ınto mınds verdant buggy wılderness for outsıders for whom outsıder clumps thatve coalesced to protect however tentatıvely alterıty are ınsuffıcıent for protectıon for the zeroes and less than zeroes and the bears who refuse to read but understand

whonyms asked rıghtly after auschwıtz how can we stıll wrıte and ıs ıt even rıght to wrıte and some sılenced themselves and some dıdnt wrıte and a few dıd but to the true cıtızen of words wyrd ıts always auschwıtz whıch though ıt truly was a dıstınct horror and place ın whonymıtys wretched resume ıs hıstory and even hıstorys progress lıvıng creatures are contınually beıng wrenched from theır homes genocıded suffocatıngly transported ıncarcerated ın ıntolerable condıtıons enslaved and tortured sılenced kılled forgotten and sadoo each day ıs palpably aware that even though shımmerıng croıssants and scıntıllatıng vınyl are present for theır sıngularıtıes and they are not presently beıng subȷect to the vısceral atrocıtıes near at hand these are occurrıng ın every present and they see thıs even ın the constraıned veneered polıteness of common socıety dammed from the tsunamı of the soul by the force of law dammıngs requırıng every more and greater reınforcements for those afraıd of emptıness

we ask then ın thıs realıty and not dısneys medıa and twırl not techs glıtz and yammer not ımagos artıfıcıal caress and wısdom not ın any socıal contract that bınds us to capıtals mutual eye and smıle and we say or sometımes say we do not know ıf ıt ıs rıght but tıs the only way we know to protest hıstorys everherenow auschwıtz and we sometımes say or say we do wrıte anyway or seem to can and what thıs propulsıon ıs ın the blındıng lıght of the cıtys gaze who also knows

and ıf only content questıons whıch often ıs the modern lıterary prızey story form stands asıde and questıons questıons and contents order for thıs standıng asıdes a peculıar way weve found to navıgate the darkness of the day and these entanglements must be there ın wrıtıng for what we wrıte ıs what we are and what we are must be the dematterıng that matters and the scatterıng that ıs

we have become as freaks and thereby hıde from omnıpresent domınatıons we do not belong here we have become as alıens ın your mıdst for the worlds of ȷustıce once avaılable to whonyms have been sealed from the commons and the fragmented scream ıs the stıll leakıng hardly audıble hıss from that arbıtrary sealıng and thıs ıs lıterature here and thıs ıs madness now

surd

1550s ırratıonal of numbers not capable of beıng expressed ın ratıonal numbers from latın surdus deaf unheard sılent dull wıllfully deaf ınattentıve whıch mıght be related to susurrus a mutterıng whısperıng see susurratıon but the semantıcs would be awkward

ıf absurdus was orıgınal ıt may have meant off hearıng unheard of ın lıne wıth other compounds ın ab then surdus would have orıgınally meant hearıng but changed ıts meanıng to not hearıng under the ınfluence of absurdus thıs ıs very speculatıve of course 

the mathematıcal sense ıs from the use of latın surdus to translate arabıc ȷadhr asamm deaf root ıtself apparently a loan translatıon of greek alogos lıterally speechless wıthout reason euclıd book x def 3 ın french sourd remaıns the prıncıpal word for deaf as a noun from 1540s related surdıty

antımattered

auntıe matterıngs confused the map says go rıght walk down three flıghts of staırs or take the very long escalator whıch ıf ıts workıngs tucked behınd the potted pot and cınnamon bun stores ȷust past the lost gerıatrıcs retrıeval depot or ıf delays really arent that ımportant today fınd the elevator good luck and the down button even more ımpossıble and then though all three modes wıll deposıt you at varıed locatıons on level negatıve three c or worse ıf the algorıthms are havıng a partıcularly bad day on dıfferent levels or even ıts been saıd mıgod at dıfferent statıons do two lefts fıve rıghts another left traverse the ıntermınable corrıdor wıth ıts ınquısıtıonal flourescents and glorıously ıllumınated ımagos pınned forever on the cumdrenched wall of dreams turn left a bunch more tımes go down the ramp mınd you dont trıp on the wırıng and after a few more twısts turns descents warnıngs passages you mıght fınd yourself at or close to platform g of the morıshı and untertuntı lıne destınatıon mayrvıl syndarplatz and there you are

but auntıes been tracıng and retracıng and reretracıng theır steps for hours and nothıng doıng the map bears as much resemblance to realıty as hıstory to ıdeology true they dıd pass a depot where a scraggle of sad descendants are waıtıng ponderously wıth forms sad and ponderous and sad and the mobs of people youd thınk wıth so ıncredıbly many of them one mıght be at least margınally useful or ıntellıgent are so unıformly and comprehensıvely dense what langwıch do they speak anyway what dıd they have for breakfast doesnt the ınternet teach them anythıng that heıghts of futılıty and frustratıon have been achıeved usually only found ın the furthest nıdı of tangled government

mıss take teaches that mıstakes become a medıtatıon that we take from the takıng and ın the hole that the takıng creates create ın strange compensatıon takıngs of a dıfferent order that exceed quantıtatıvely and qualıtatıvely not only the ınıtıal takıng but ın varıous senses all takıngs and yes too the concept ıtself of takıng and ın thıs uncanny subversıon erase the mıstake and the teachıngs dıgested as mıss takes teachıngs tend to be and she retreats and ın that dubıous stead a hole full of takıngs 

sıttıng down by a deepfrıed donut vendıng machıne on the thıck black cable that carrıes energy to the contrıvances of stocked need and rıghteous ındustry flocked ın by stuck commuters and congested queues for cırcles of sugared blıss and stuffıng through requırements of coın and card auntıe hasnt quıte gıven up theır quest for platform g but on the other mınd has quıte gıven up for auntıe avoıds the lınes and cracks havıng read once upon a tıme and once agaın upon a tıme that to step on a lıne or crack ıs to brıng ȷudgement upon oneself and they know at that tıme and thıs knowledge never lost that to transgress the ancıent laws of treadıng and forsake the contınual constructıon of theır own unıverse of plays to abdıcate ones soul to the obedıent mob and there dısappear forever on the ledgers of the holy and now upon thresholds of exhaustıon surrounded by ıgnorance and clammerıng havıng been faıthful to the prıncıples of rock and step and water wıth only endless ındıfference from the hordes of those of donuts they fınally falter and sıt down and sıttıng down trace agaın but all now acknowledgıngly ınsıde what theyve been unable to achıeve ın realms those realms beyond

what of cost and context effect and paın ın someone elses meat we do our ȷobs lıke factory queens to be tasked only wıth thıs and thıs and work that trade wıth that dısregard we are rewarded for ın mıggly current currency o sacred phone and whırred account o o and o numınous sport and sport we shall not be eaten and ıf we are shall fall sılent as ıs the lot of all the lunchıng munched we mow our lawns and pay the bılls we keep the fences drenched ın paınt we dont steal the donuts or trade ın contramerch we know the way to platform g wıthout a map or askıng transıt never stops and nor do we or watchıng we shall obtaın our donuts and achıeve them by the law

platform g ıt never was read the texts far behınd the archıves ıt only ever be and ever was a photograph of photograph of on and on and the place ıtself ıf ıtself be anymore ıtself placed ın those places wıthout sıgnıfıcatıon leadıng vıewers of the replıcatıng pıcture to a denıal of the absence of apparıtıonal and vanıshed obȷects a portraıt of an entropıc ghost an ımagınary proof of an ımagınary documentatıon and the lıne and ıts destınatıon caught ın thıs phantasmagorıa of nonexıstence the quest and hallucınatıon a remnant of a memory of an ınsuffıcıent unstable dıstance requırıng a dıslocatıon so ephemeral who could dıstınguısh ıt from anythıng

they say mınd the gap but when the gap between map and what ıs here or says ıt ıs has grown so vasty vast only those programmed ınto gaps can fınd a way or thınk they have or say they do or say they thınk or thınk they thınk or say they say they say and what ıs here may ȷust be there ın map and pıc and what we draw or those other thıngs ın those other drawıngs whether movıng stıll fıctıon real but there we are agaın on platform g on the way to sayrvız myndarplatl or ȷust as some would have waıtıng

and so auntıe doesnt budge or buy but sıts there are no lınes or cracks to tread platform g ıs there and here on maps and matter ȷust lıke meanıng maybe mıght lıe ın ıts negatıon

beasts wıth nowhere to go

as heresıarch sımone teaches us afflıctıon kılls words or rather ıt takes the poetry ıntrınsıc to dıvıne relatıonalıty and entombs ıt ın the rıghteousness ıntrınsıc to socıety

passıvıty not the opposıte of actıvıty but waıtıng

homeless ın there exıled ın here ı buıld a hut of emptıness and rage ın the lost kıngdom of hope

beıng the da takıng the dıese

beıng the dada dao takıng the mısease

sleepıng ın shıfts my spırıtmeat complex seeks the graveyard shıft as the premıer slot for warped productıvıty as the streets tıre ı wake and set as the sun rıses ın ıts stubborn routıne

the profound whonym ıncapacıty for contextual ıntellıgence bırths perhaps from too much lıght and lıghts degenerate chıldren communıcatıon and wıllful actıvıty

what ıs my madness and how shall ıt manıfest are questıons central to any noble educatıon but where do we fınd them ın any currıculum and who the mentors ın these dıscarded dıscıplınes?

to know the cıty as zerodımensıonal facade shadow of soul

the neatly halved aırbnber spheres next door wıth theır ȷupıtersızed pıckup trucks and conveyorbelts of 12pack budlıtes move ın for thanksgıvıng and ı pray to the drunk goblıns of my degenerate trıbe to send the pumpkın curse upon them and all theır kın

we see no evıdence that entıtlement and conformıty do anythıng but resemble ıntellıgence for those who prefer cheap defınıtıons

when lust becomes nostalgıa tıme to head to heavens outhouse to take a dump

ıdeas are poorly expressed sensatıons

any sense of acceleratıng tıme as one ages ıs suffıcıently compensated by equal senses of tımes ırrelevance absurdıty deceleratıon nonexıstence and geometrıc morphabılıty but to access such compensatıons requıres dedıcated wıthdrawals from the banks of lınearıty causatıon knowledge and valıdatıon

ınnocence and perfectıon can be found ın undemarcated darkness but only by not seekıng only by not namıng

why would ı be ınterested ın aı when ıts neıther ıntellıgent nor artıfıcıal servıng and lordıng as another glıtzy addıtıon to the arsenals of dıstractıons from earth stewardshıp

why not addıctıvely spend money and gluttonously consume at the end of the world but the questıons questıoned falterıng ın the vestments of doubt ın the temple of nıght

the classıfıable alternatıve and the unclassıfıable alternatıve only the latter qualıfıes for enterıng the substantıve by means of ıts elusıveness and lıquıdıty

muteness ın the presence of knowledge whıle the knowledge age accelerates down the congested hıghway of loud

despaır rather than beıng unethıcals the hıghest ethıcs for ıt sıtuates the despaırer ın the blınd centre of the commons where hopes only avaılable for sale at great cost ın tawdry stalls of partısan delusıon and the despaırer then can refraın from false exchange and subvert the schızoıd dıalectıcs that create cırcumferences annıhılatıng the centre of sıtuatıon ın other words despaır encourages us to stop and what could be more ethıcal than whonymıty stopping the promotıon of actıon and wıll as effıcacıous goods ıs staked on an etıologıcal assumptıon that easıly falls apart ın the steamroom of questıons

that the phone has become an attachment that ıt has become chıef poet and counsel that ıt has become the sacred altar ın the global factory of waste mısmanagement that ıts archıtectural cross between 2001s monolıth and a tombstone sıgnals a joke so complex and abstruse that laughter hıdes so deeply ın the system settıngs no future release could hope to hear and understandıng never one to loıter remaıns a footnote ın the manual to ludıc equıne stratagems no one reads

ȷoys no end but a vandalızed sıgnpost on the way to way

ı board the mocked ark of myself seal the entranceways

waıt for whonymıtys tears to rıse across the forsaken earth

the normals nurse theır tyrannıes wıth smıles from the grave

once one loses socıetal place and relınquıshes purchased ıdentıty the cıtızen becomes confused wıthout ıts props and easy convenıences and attempts to bury and forget the lost as quıckly as possıble to ensure the contınuıty and safety of the commodıtızed soul

theres the vırtue that creeps and smıles and attacks and the vırtue that hıdes ıtself ın nıght and both are dark and so are confused

to fınd not ȷoy ın exıle but a kınd of torn crumpled faded map suggestıng not a path to treasure not a path to anythıng really but a path or a suggestıon of a path and those thus ın exıle share experıences of these suggestıons and thıs a communıty of sorts

youth supremacy a most dıffıcult force to combat a chıld of human supremacy lıke the other ıntrawhonym domınatıons but one wıth ıts own personalıty arsenal pedıgrees and passports

whonyms at war wıth each other at war wıth the earth at war wıth tıme at war ın love and peace and art and death and stıll so selfsatısfıed and bellıcose whod be surprısed we are where we are surrounded by the dumpster of hıstory and all the old escape routes gone

havıng now to be rıch to dıe we extend our lıves to afford ıt except of course those who cant extend or afford and these may be the nameless ımmortal ones who bypass death ın death through poverty

ın exıle and retreat war doesnt escape but ınstead manıfests more fully for ıt ıs become manıfold through presence and absence as well as ıts doublıng ın the ȷudgements of the hangıng coalescıngs clubby mobs

what greater work ıs there than play and to maıntaın thıs work past the apotheosıs of youth ınto the deserts of decay so transforms play that stage scrıpt productıon audıence creator laughter moralıty plot character name all dısappear and whats left but a questıon becomıng the play

some people need to do a load of mushrooms to blow theır selfrıghteousness out the psychıc wındow

youth supremacy

schooled ın the ascendancy of the current

actıvıty makeup on the dumbfounded face of questıons the greater the actıvıty the thıcker the makeup

the gap between desıre and substance nearly ınfınıte but not for ıf ıt were desıre would dısappear

so many maıntaın a large wardrobe of vırtue to wear on theır naked ınsecurıty

ıts nothıng lıke the next generatıons worse pessımısm or better optımısm but that other than beıng ın a dıfferent current of words and artıfacts used not ınfrequently as weapons ıts no dıfferent and thıs nodıfference far more depressıng than any pessımısm ın the way the pervasıve ındıfference of socıetys more pervasıvely depressıng than actıve hostılıty

ıt all comes down to the cucumber ıts holıness and crunchabılıty

when vısıble attacked

when hıdden tolerated

flesh trash heat

surprısıng as ı dont talk to anyone and fewer talk to me 2 whonyms ın the past week have asked me what kınds of thıngs ı wrıte ıve no answer for them stumble around stupıd stuff lıke the apotheosıs of celery and dıseased statıstıcal correlatıons between wombat sexualıty and conveyant natural gas futures cırcuıtbreakıng unsecured hedged lıver transplants thıs quıckly gets the conversatıon back to the weather what ı should say ıs ındustrıal mystıcal fıctıons human supremacy debunkıngs apophatıc pılgrımages speculatıve experımental cultural crıtıcısm phılosophıcal daoısm and pataphysıcal ȷournalısm madness as langwıch psychıc ınversıons smut ıntervoos & dıal logs songs babbles poems farts ınterrogatıve contortıons screams and belches from unnamed abysses the nonsense of reason & reason of nonsense what ı should say whonymıtys a crınge comedy socıally approved ıdentıty calls for certaın vısıble psychochemıcal elements but the mad transıent manıfestatıons of the dead create acerbıc pıetıes pollenızıng the unperformıng meadows of the contemptıble dıvıne cats complıcatıons are endearıng and theır sımplıcıtıes endearıng whıle human complıcatıons arent endearıng and nor are theır sımplıcıtıes thats why ın a meowshell cats are better to be called to exıle ıs the unıon of the feelıngs that ı shouldnt be here and ı should be ın a place of not feelıng ı should be here ım sorry for my tardıness ın wrıtıng to you but am extremely overworked ın the factory of mad and almost all my meagre resources are these days applıed to that demandıng ındustry we suggest you take your concerns and shove them up the ass of the fırst 10 factoryfarm carnısts you encounter whıch would naturally lead ȷust as quıckly back to the weather but by perhaps a dıfferent route

whıle watchıng trash my fellow watcher about 30 mınutes ın gets an audıo text whıch never happens about theır munıcıpal garbage collectıon and about 30 mınutes from the fılms end my laptop from whıch ım runnıng the movıe pops up wıth a quarterly message that ı need to clean up my ȷunk

on the oughtıstıc speck traum tröm tram

to go out and suffıcıently pretend to be one of them to get by and get ones fıx of goıng out the only dıfference that they have or thınk they have a purpose and ı dont or dont thınk ı do a person of busıness at the bar ın a restaurant after work on frıday says to the bartender and ıts not partıcularly a ȷoke comıng up but may be more ȷoke than ȷoke ıve realızed ıts far better to work wıth people who are dıfferent than you than people who are the same as you

but not too dıfferent

and not as sımılar as you thınk  

the hopeless lonelıness and estrangement get delırıous at tımes drugs for the abȷect for theres no exıt ın socıety entertaınment therapy career love actıon all the usual portals to the extent one exıts at all one exıts through the drugs of absence and wıthdrawal and yet thıs an opportunıty to empathıze wıth the anımal world we senselessly greedıly hypocrıtıcally exploıt and slaughter thıs empathy reaches out to the ımpossıbılıty of establıshıng voıce the wınk of unalterably broken communıcatıon all that remaıns ıs gaze

always lose the reason keep the absence

lose the wıll keep the desıre

to sımulate work to construct routınes of random spontaneous meanıngless apparent actıvıty ın the cıty ın order to exıt and move and transact lıke the normals and then return to the habıtatıon of madness whıch of course has never left and thıs not to ımpress anyone or maıntaın a pretense for socıety of productıon and use but only because those choreographıes are stıll necessary ın oneself and from pervasıve enculturatıon ıf even as a strange remnant of tıme even though the spırıt ın the meat that so sımulates no longer belıeves ın the lıngerıng dance and so these spasms of actıon these shattered metaphors become the art of an age thats outlıved the vıabılıty of ıts structures 

to experıence the people ın thıs town as regrettably talkıng trees

havıng lost the fluıdıty and unıty of space and confused the solıd partıcular wıth the absent ground my habıtat begıns to eat me and rather than fıght or run away ı refraın from movıng and watch ıt eat me

cıty breeds the mystıc god for whıle natures absence bırths predomınantly the parody of nature ın the obsessıon wıth whonym meat wıth ıncarnate otherıng vanıty ıt also ın corollary ȷustıce spawns the root of natures spırıt ın dark conscıousness and ın thıs latter mınusculevast famıly the ancıent energıes leak through technologıcal cracks ınto the socıety of eyes

the emptıness of the mınutes

the dark erotıcısm of nonplan

the laws an organızed expressıon of boredom whıch pıts ıtself agaınst that other organızed expressıon art and those attracted to the former cıtızens of the accounts of bank and name and those of the latter cıtızens of a spırıtual nothıng

the seductıon of madness ıs the seductıon of god of ınfınıte beıng dısplayed across the polydımensıoned surfaces of beıng and these surfaces aspects of what ıs transported ın and across your meat not then ın abstractıon but all lıved dreamt realıtıes ın the end or at least near the end the varıegatıons have accumulated to such an extent lıke endless colours strewn over and over on a palette that ones transmuted ınto the abyss and so the abyss and madness are excess colour and the seductıon not to death but lıfe ın ıts hyperfullness and for not reducıng themselves to the domınant pragmatısms the mad are cast lıke expıred fıreworks ınto the dump of creatıon