we spoke about the horses
on a sovereign shore
touched by the teeth of broken glass

“i will give you a bank of thieves.” you said
“I will give you the blade of seas.”

I merely watched the waves
razing the shapes of faces

“the dandelion is your maze,” I said, “in the sallow hands of my heart.”

we are lost inside the forest of It-ness
fickle about the fruits that made us forlorn
you stepped into a tangle of veins
convinced by the contours of my chest
to rest on a bed of tails

you celebrated poison and sureness
you calibrated your fall
you posed for the final hour
you slept despite the storm

we talked about the trembling of distance
we talked about the depth and coil
“listen to the gargoyle of your love.” you said
“listen to the chime of your failing.”

there is comatose on your tongue
there are enzymes breaking down your daydreams
there is the typical rain of sadness
ruining the soles of your feet

you sought out horses by a sovereign shore
but only found riders, bleeding for manna
you sought out lilies by the lake
but only found the melancholy of mud






septu as
amalgam of the east


many faced temple
orbit / attic
whore-house of
moving nervous systems


septu in the eyes
tespu in the hands


also nest
also garden of eda
winter desert of the north


half mast
full sail
blue disembodied fruit
or foot in landscape
or citadel fire
clothed in southern smoke


calendar mutant of septu
time wells of septu
waves in pastel light rooms
waves in neon rain street
waves through hyperspatial western fronts


night of strangers and protocol
night of darkness swimming
pools to the other spaces
pools of chlorine lumii
animal faced sipping cocktails near pools
world pools
crescent pools

99 nights for the scenes of septu

99 binary gates or rays
99 nodes on the map of epicide
99 circuits from the colony of null


septu as primary
massive hallucinatory artefact


septu as secondary stimuli, surrealismepaths


septu in the bodies of toys
septu in the flora of dinner
septu in the partial lit hall
septu in tv
septu in crests and orifices
septu as witness to the lord tespu










all 99 poems:

99 Tespus sitting on a wall for
99 nights
9 words/stanza
9 stanzas
99 poems
99 days




99 / 99

and how drunk
the infonaut become
barefoot with hunger

faced with endless place
of dune diabolical
monochrome room

and sought he shelter
on the wall of tespu

sought he beauty
‘terrible and profound’
of the 99

many tongues in one nation
drawn out by expedition

in the courtyard
where the shell of astronaut lay

into the bunker
into the disco
under earth

under oath
sword into
core creatrix cunt of constance

“only the strong”
said he, gentleman
“only the strange.”

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira


a confession of tespu to his manucfactured duaghter constance


i know this kind of impending storm
like a lover
bruised, swirling, heavy hearted


she upsets the family kitchen above
messing up clothes line
so it dangles, disoriented, before my window


it’s full of lingerie on pink clothespins
they dance to pump blood into my organ
I reach out, to play among the undergarments


the clothesline unhooks itself like a bra
and tumbles into my abandoned house
into my pointless kitchen
into my quacking hands


I search for the skimpiest piece
the freshly washed among
large, flag like garments belonging to grandmothers


my fingers part layers hiding erotic treasure
no, no, no,
my groin churns with excitement


but the voice of the woman from upstairs

breaks through the noise inside. I also
know this kind of inward storm like a lover


between my fingers
I finally find myself feeling out the fabric of
cartoon underwear belonging to children


colourful animals
printed on the backside of panties
are laughing and jumping through hoops


and in the crotch
is a letter from their mother to her younger self
painfully speaking of burden
of loving one girl more than the other


“but I can love them all” I say
my palms read like a sweaty, dark haven bible
“I am the storm inside the life of innocence.”


but only the storm is listening



the house is really pointless and abandoned
i search my head for the voice of young mother
but only find a lost boy inside


I find difficulty
putting the clothes line back on unstable hangers
it dangles with the peril of lightning
threatening to let go
to fall into my wide aching jaws
to clap and to
laugh at me, uselessly jumping through hoops.









in the last days of tespu
sea spray

bed sheet
tangled with the veil of her

a horizon of heat seekers
sleeping against the wall

wet constructs from the pit of nose
molten brain’d

rusting nail to hang lost pictures
phone numbers scrawled

shadows trapped in brick
tenuous in teeth
pure water

yellow in its dusk
tusks of forgotten pleasures

layered in purple rooms
saints of evidence

“maybe the bird lang”
she said
“vaccine the future”

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira




sung of the damage in
brain of druqs

nightingale singed wing
of the nest
the unlit room

given single stalk of rose
for dinner years ago

in hungry mode
cigarette almost finishing
tumbling around

her table of warped pages
color smearing across eyelid

lov lov
of jonny poo
head up skirt

of office
lady mother camera
up dress worm scenics

trauma army armed with rustle dried paintbrush
scratching, curled

constance from the breakage age
reality male storm havoc

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira




babbling from the belly of the blocks near beach

echo of microphonic voices pleading or exaltations or croaking

it’s too bright for the frogs to emerge proudly

in swamp they wait for me as their child

but i am petulant, sexless, full of potent possibilities

like a chemical chain reacting with chemo on shore

face facing holes in the skyline, celebrating toxic exhaust

inhale, perpetrate, hallucinate, divine the instances of human failure

in urn, becoming babbling voice, proclaiming the end thyme

#99tespus #irvngpaulpereira






‘first cigarette
i cannot fathom
this messed up room

my phone is broken
sim card stolen
nails chipped

second cigarette
the clothes on the floor aren’t mine

I have fresh wounds
bite marks
empty balls

spewing the food I had with her in moonlight

her outline is lost in neon
in bad reception

staff didn’t see anyone enter or leave my room

by cigarette three
I know these cigarettes are hers

I go home confused
in a borrowed bath robe

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira









misfortunate romance serials
tries on your wet suit

you’re left naked
straddling television with
big screen profiles

crying with antennae in your eyes,
in your cardio

her voice becomes
a bird mating call
by morning

and alpha creatures
come to sniff her perfumed crotch

pull the plug
pug face
she won’t love you

record button fail
speakers fail
broadcast lost in snow

time for the radio
autotune love singer
blowing microphones

swallowed whole
with cable
connected to
spoilt abundant machines

#99tespus #irvingpaulpereira