Sunless days & eternal afternoons, Pleurant, je voyais de l'or
letter upon letter, le sentier
character upon character, de l'Honneur -
names without moments, je me n'explique pas!
phaces without words,
mounted, all mounted, collected Pharce, la pharce
on the insignificant glory le temps quand
of his breath. je pleure!
The wind blows backwards How silly my raving,
as a given blessing, this grip of vertigo,
Monsieur Gusbet smokes his pipe, my merchant way
eyes watching through a hole of understanding.
on the wallpaper - pulsing
or throbbing, an eye watchful of all Unphortunate
the phigments - unaware repentance, the art
of omnipresence stares, the smoke & the crime of hearts
whirling into canvases and oils, disgusting lies,
yes, the pipe phumes backwords, usurary's dialect:
into the beginning, the disdain of brutes
in utero vanitas, the commerce of flesh
the ever present eye. a pound for a pound
a soul for a soul
It is raining. The aphternoon easy money -
Monsieur Gusbet was borne. I am not a man,
Monsieur Gusbet wans't alive before that. I am the Devil.
His Mother never existed,
his job was a practicality, his Phather a worn shoe,
his handwriting a mistake
(or a sin, as ophten he wheeled)
the habit of breathing just a shock
(an electrical current, actually) Weeping for a sun
the entireness of seeing a blur, less cold,
alas, he was born on this aphternoon. here I am alone,
A dateless aphternoon at the Chat Noir. waiting on her,
A timeless longing at the end of that light day: discovering horrors
- An immense exclamation mark, he uttered & stupidities:
to the hole on the wall, the stigma of sight, my self-portrait
the stigmata of pheeling. on a glass of absynthe.
Ejaculation worthless consideration.
Vagina's open mouths and moonlight, he thought.