day 30

Unsere Gesch√§ftsnr- TN 33/062. 01:59:56 monsierre,,, tespu, don, luciaproof fats in vats of bbw encalled, dsrptn 33/062 qon taliametrics don ‘fishnet stockings for #hentai bonus. malam* tespu, manjaculates op: asingbol protocol enplaced by bedstride of Leit Motif. disembull lam, tespu discarddoff hagia of nagas first then the ebb & jam of georg pool floatsam escagot-apricots flibbonacci of course there is awful coiled oily cock in pantyhose si si xi bots angelled & floomin’ deep throat in the e-den of tespu. of course there is end notes to Lore-gic the epimath virals of Kon the mount & morse code of estpu … Continue reading day 30

day 29

Alt.illicit histories re: singlitstation metauniverse acc to tespu #spwm17 #spwm17day29 #irvingpaulpereira spent the mrrning on factboid looking @ pi¬©tures of Joshua Ip we know we shouldn’t Not before the morphine Not bbefore McDonald’s hunt It’s not the way he left our bed dome three trances ago to devout his man organs & linguis lobe to that literary intelligence lode naming SPWOM It’s not the way he wiped out our sunsets from the folder root dir> tgthr It’s not the way he’s been ignoring the groin of our grammarian tree. It’s the way he looked at tespu & the song at … Continue reading day 29

day 28

serene half naked in&out of window legs dangling outside milky way thighs to the sky red light special with joss sticks behind her moon touched body a horizon of ships with blue flares a fire alarm cactus tespu, the cunntninglinguist aircrafts loaded with dangerous weapons the stars, gaze at the failures of our imagination of serene, dangling by the window the squaw and magic of her birds #irvingpaulpereira #spwm17 #spwm17day28 Continue reading day 28

day 27

Last few sounds to die within atmospheric memory grid; chik of a bic lighter, bubbling water, clink of spoon in glass, sizzle of steak on hotplate. irrelevant sound disturbs the vibration mongers; the ranaglas, the omanyacon, the sarrogheitus – legions drifting through the detritus, the energetic imprints remaining at common gathering space of humanoids; of bankers, bastards, bartenders, babies, etcetera. ranaglas absorption of layered emotions released at ragnarok sequencing – (quote) anger, violence, suicide of dark night soul clusters, collective experiences of war; congealing in the bubble matrix of zero gravity gunk, eaten like a wild animal = contentment omanyacon … Continue reading day 27

day 26

the eulogy & emancipation of tespu – Monsierre Tespu, your final nun is dying the sand in her mouth is turning to stone you’ve done your forty years in the desert her water just broke it’s eleven forty one for the last three days she’s been digging her sacred cunt tasting the scabs of your one thousand one hundred names something is bloating in her stomach i’m starting to see the form of your face under her skin Monsierre Tespu ‘how great thou art’ also there’s a concubine in me that’s also in you there’s mathematical erections there’s a solar … Continue reading day 26

day 24

singia “Tespu dreams in the house of afrioca but seeds in the house of ihiir.” there’s a tide that flows through the hall lapping at the cabinet of crystals there’s a hole in the balcony wall overlooking the seaweed forest a bloated man that drifts in and out of light sunburnt feet rarely touching debris there’s fog in the stairwells a body in a chair, convulsing a body moved by something other than life or current old teachers, store managers, pale lipped children appear on various moons never a sound never fully visible like static flickering holograms like the death … Continue reading day 24

day 23

the yellow plastic horse appears shell shocked. i suspect it’s the rusty spring in its stomach, not in its step. its four limbs are above ground. i do not watch it vomit blood, the way my horse did in my other life. a life of fire and arrows and the corpse of a queen. you can play tic tac toe, by turning yellow cubes on a pole. one side is x, the other, zero. hugs and kisses. things explicitly missing from my current age in life. the way children are missing from this place. but it is midnight anyway. a … Continue reading day 23

day 22

The seven sacramental asingbol horns: crushed and consumed by Tespu. _ true crush: born of hindsight, from failure and not of faces. the unexcited butterflies in damaged pancreas now pinned on the wall as decor. first crush: sharp kitchen knife, dangling from fathers’ tie hung over chandelier pointing to bare chest, hardcover cookbook to avoid death. first crush: burning rope, lit by church candle. a young body in a suitcase at the bottom of a well, eaten by red ants in the isolated wild. first crush: fat goldfish caught in clothes peg pulled out of tank gasping for breath. an … Continue reading day 22

day 21

“cclaon deceives the mind. cclaon will unshape us she is the heavenly promise” – film from a black planet, by #irvingpaulpereira I unrecognised slices of time, thinly razed, impregnated. film: sentient crackling mess of form, mutated, unrecognised. figures: hooded, monologue wall, disrupting narration, arrhythmia of film. disembodied spirit of cast, returning, weeping in pipes in the house we shot at, fog toxins from burnt flesh pooling around fleeting figures. impregnated, the other faces of lost dolls emerge. II it is the film that awakens in me it is the film that ended their world I am reborn blind but can … Continue reading day 21