60

60

ointment khan
viscous apostolate
late to the diner party

a cuppa vicious vodka
a cuppa radiant auroras later

ointment khan achieves floral state
all is monochrome now

life of the
deep soil diner party
proposing pollen

buds delivering deep soil
crystalline sediment water
treated atmospherics

oh
the walls and disxcotechnique lighting
returning to farm

oh
urban hall stooping into basement organ
penetration pattern

heartbeat stomper
pulsing aphrodisiac
multiple youths climbing cocaine mounts

ointment khan crossing lines
ointment khan crosses into console

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira

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59

59

straw hat
palm trees
pastel Volkswagen Beetle
holiday sun

tuxedos are lost
corporate cards ruined
baggage missing enroute

driver has forgotten her old name
and old face

there’s mud in the car but she can’t explain

when she leaves each town
a body is found

she drinks pina coladas
eats only seeds and nuts

her frantic family flies in
to look for her

her face is not hers any more
but zebrassiers’

zebrassier keeps changing cars
visiting new towns, holiday hunting

 

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira

58

58

Emby sits
next to a man
made of sticks

Emby plays with matches and gasoline
sticks and stones

“burn, burn, go home to your urn
fuck off”

sticks and stones go together because stones break sticks

Emby keeps the best stones
Emby loves broken sticks

stick men give Emby stone sickness and stick medicine

Emby builds bridges with stick men
then burns them

strange breed of
aloneness men
spread ashes on body

“no one wants these bodies so we wear them”

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira

The House of Madre

 

The House of Madre

madre in the kitchen making pineapple tarts
madre in the kitchen making crumbling candy men

can you please sedate the pineapples
can you please sedate the ex-boyfriends

all the ex-boyfriends are now military men
they are crowding up the tv hall
they are wiring up the house with explosives
they are trying to find the panic room
they are trying to make clear instructions to children

you stay three minutes in the first room
you gotta turn ON the lights
you move OUT after three minutes
you gotta turn OFF the lights

or the bed will know you’re gone
or the chair will know you’re gone
and they have wheels don’t they?
they have wheels
they will follow you
they will follow you
you gotta move out after three minutes
you gotta turn off the lights

 


FADRE
is rearranging the animals in the toilet
FADRE
is rearranging the animals in the shoe cabinet

do not let FADRE enter your farm
do not let FADRE enter your curriculum
_

The day the surrogates brought us to the red chamber
we came face to face with
CCTV command center
it’s in the study
it;s in the study against the wall that moves around without our knowledge

it is showing me
the mirror of
who i really am
in this
CCTV black and white
black and white CCTV
We are watching the other rooms
We are watching the celibate rooms
We are watching the lift lobby

there are firemen downstairs
there are military men
there are ex-boyfriends

we are watching the nursery
we are watching the interrogation room

theres a woman in a malnourished dress
theres a woman smoking ice cold cigarettes
her hands are cuffed together before her on the table
so she must bend over to smoke her cigarette
she is talking to a malnourished man
exchanging glances
exchanging cigarettes
the man smokes faster than her
she leaves lipstick on the cigarette butt
she wants him to find her missing husband
she smokes like a grieving widow
she smokes at the grieving window
near the table
she tells the malnourished man
“the last time i saw my husband he was going to the house of tespu”
but the smoking man knows she killed the Husband with a cyanide pill.

the sex worker is vacuuming the floor
the sex worker is drawing a cunt in the dust on the floor
the sex worker is rubbing her body on the floor
the sex worker is sleeping with the husband
the husband has become her sex worker
the sex worker becomes her own madre

 

the military men are anxious about the things outside the house
the military men are standing by the windows of night
the military men are barking orders but you can tell they are scared

you stay three minutes in the room
you keep the fucking lights off!
theres a camera on the western wall
you do not look at it

you tell us when you saw the husband
you tell us why you saw your husband
you turn on the lights when you leave your husband
don’t let the bed follow you

where is the sword of the grieving woman?
we need the sword to stay safe in the dining room

when did you last see the husband?

which room?
were the lights on or off?
which room?

madre has finished baking pineapple tarts
madre has finished baking pineapple tarts with cyanide
its sitting on the dining table
the children are at the dining table
one of them speaks when madre speaks

you must slice the tarts with the sword of the father
you must slice the tarts with sword of the Mother

 

the husband is coming through the hall
move the children to the painting room
the husband is waiting in the cupboard
move the daughters to the bean bag room
the husband is in the bedroom behind the door
move the adults to the opium room

you must be careful!
fadre is coming down the hallway
you must be careful
fadre is coming down the hallway and he is hungry
fadre is coming down from the ceiling
fadre is inside your room

why aren’t you doing your mathematics?
why aren’t you selling your paintings?

where are the pineapple tarts?!

fadre is here to steal your crystals
fadre is here to arrange your animals
fadre is here to steal your pineapple tarts

 

madre is waiting at the gate
madre is listening to the wind
there is all this dust and bed bugs and candle wax
madre is calling all the ex-boyfriends

 

all the military men have put aside their weapons
all the military men are playing with dark green candles
all the military men are playing with dark blue candles
they are pouring hot red wax on their kevlar
they are getting erections by man handling their grenades
they have finished wiring up the house with explosives
they are touching themselves with knives between their legs
they are hearing voices in their heads

“This is the house of tespu.”

all the military men have unloaded their weapons
all the military men have put aside their clothes
all the military men are recalling childhood
all the military men are weeping

why are they weeping, Fadre?
Why are they weeping, Madre?

all the military men are crunching on pineapple tarts baked with cyanide pills.

madre has opened the gate to the house of tespu
the pineapple tarts are
finished

Uneaten by children in the painting room
Uneaten by daughters in the bean bag room
Uneaten by adults in the opium room

madre has opened all the doors in the house of tespu
madre has opened all her legs

Fadre is by her feet

Fadre is full of pineapple tarts from the kitchen
Fadre is full of pineapple tarts from the kitchen

 

#prophescenes #irvingpaulpereira

 

57

maps have turned to marsh
numbers dropping from coordinates

when we reached
only one washing hut remained

we expected rain
it only came a grey later

the silence
we needed
waited by the smoking place

the silence
that kept us
left no engine running

theres a man
a beige room
talking to electronics

cloned
tinted windows
gas
traffic cam black out sequence

here lies
the thief of
wives and daughters,
feasted

a grey later
the tub will be fully drained

 

#99tespus #irvingpualpereira

 

 

56

56

your shapely garbage
take a toll on a man

creatures we ate
take a toll on the woman

piling of indigenous plates
where the animals we ate-

shut up qwerty. shut up mice boi.
shut up

our machines forget how to song
take a toll

i long to discard nothing
i long to un-pine

written letters
take a toll on the loosening keystrokes

we tow the non
binaural man to seething chamber

fire blank weapons at his garbage with aimless blindfold

 

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira

the cop

we move from white to grey again, leaning and weaning, somewhat drugged by the fog in  the air. where is master tespu? and what of these mounts?

 

the irrational logic of drainage appears.
we cross but, do we cross?
is it behind  or inside us?

 

some drains are gutter white light, too false to be given divinity.

 

some drains are full of scavenger fish, the one Fadre and  I let go, decades ago, on a night like this near a church.

 

they have multiplied
they have become distractions for trains.

 

this place is crowded with the greyish people.

 

everyone’s drugged by the fog in the air.

 

in a hall full of people, or at the end of an airport hanger, I see a man with a weapon. he is in a police  uniform. he is yelling at people around him, mid range, I’m many many drains away. from where i am , he i s small and baliistic.

 

some drains are easy to cross.
others are chasmic

 

the man with the weapon is yelling in my face. he is a police officer.

 

the black drains seem the longest, no other way around it. it feels as familiar as the black forests we once got lost in. but there is no getting lost here. the drain runs from one horizon or the next. it does not consume as as much as it spaces us.

 

“there is no getting lost here, at the mountains of tespu”

 

the fog that drugs us come from the drains. a deep rooted magic. dank and deliberate. `

 

the police officer is now at close range, gun to my forehead, trigger ready.

 

I want him to shoot me because i know he is also my Fadre.

 

 

#irvingpaulpereira #prophescenes

55

55

a constance priest
sifting through
ambient accordion photo books

ident of scar and lopside
leather mogul, sedate daughter

intermitted favours of noughtlight
passing with his constance blessing

he who knows the savage floorplans
he who withstands

this constance priest
pouches full of faint detract seeds

mezzanine pulpit, shower of fanatic lashings
offered in kind

last crime at sinai threshold
last crime in tempest

constance priest
lowering of self into foxhole
into manhunt

collection of crosses from slender necks
sweet muffled prayers

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira

gone is the black

gone is the black house in the white tower.

this is a sign that the Elder, Tespu is coming closer to our surface. I am no more anxious or killing time by his side. the armchair is gone. my shoes are on. the claustrophobia of dank debris, broken walls of the unlit world is finished.

there is no furniture here, save the medicine bed. someone in the passing of time (maybe me) have removed the catheter and glucose drip feeds and blood transfusion machines. the sheets seem fresh, the body of Tespu less grey than i remember it. blood is moving.

there is more space here, the ceilings repaired, the balcony in the hall now rebuilt, open windows breathe pristine.

this is a summer like house, full of bright morning air and white washed walls.I do not find any of this familiar. we are still high above mankind, risen into clear skies overlooking the greatness sea. it is blue and shining with gold. All the abandoned ships, once the bane of this scene, floating there like frozen corpses, morose and burdened by rust, have vanished. the burning castles that once dotted the crumbling lands beyond, choking on smoke filled horizons are no where to be see. They belong to a fading memory. the world ahead is clarity.

but just like the world we used to live in, not everything is what it seems.

I sense gateways opening up in the sky. I sense that familiar feeling of invasion, but one devoid of malice.

I am rushing to close the windows.

outside, far above and to the left, slow motion wooden boats, painted black and red, are floating towards us. in my mind i understand their crashing will be ruinous and full of debris.

I am rushing to close the windows.

the shattering of boats into a crystalline sea shall not spill into our maiden mansion. I must keep the elder Tespu safe in his final hours of sleep.

gone is the black sites in our white skulls.

this is the sign that he has made space in his immaculate temple / satellite / body. i suspect that his mind remains galactic, but his heart is a rich open desert and his soul is full of bent time.

this is our eleventh day.

at some point in the time to come, we will rebuild a hut or cabin in the desert. that ‘sacredness of fertile space’ where the construct in the west was risen. we will use wood, sharply possessed by black and red ointments from the land. there will be no trace of salt in its bones. there will be no evidence of sinking back onto seabed. i suspect the great sea as I see it now will become a faction in our psyches. I suspect there will be comforts of a different bed to rest our heads despite not feeling weary.

gone is the black night in our white dominions.

at least for now.

for there is a distant voice that speaks in the old tongues of Ai-Fi and XIOL and Nebulore. One that knows ‘for every sight in a world of light, there shall live its blindness’

but one without devastation or defeat.

“we will be accustomed to the future dark,” the promiser of Tespu had said, “and we will fluidly move through the path of terrors.”

#prophescenes #irvingpaulpereira

54

54

the sign said, “no half drenched cups or hearts.”

verily, verily i say unto you “consume them hot.”

steam of papaya milk and fire in the pomegranate

circulate the plates
do not leave red chairs empty

ancestors to the left, cigarette smokers
offer hell notes

ancestors to the right, strong brandies
offer burnt mercedes

neon flashing lights of funeral
noise from disco hearse

the sign said, “do not feed the corpses strawberries”

verily verily I say, “better the sweetness than bitterhood.”

#irvingpaulpereira #99tespus