The Book of Mummy

[the written language]

〘υ ɯ❼ζꄻ   ▉   ำ⊞ꀯ

⊈  ꑇ ᓰ⼤ु      ἕ━   ⡧⇝

⍰ ᅵ ↡  ᅪ  ꐙ  Ꮡ ⅰʫ  ‱

✥ᾯ ⡂ᇎ  ᖭ⢯ ሂ   ј ﻩ  ㎵ᑘ

⿴ Ủ ⺍  ඟᄆ ❞

’ﺹ ⠼ ﬗ   ╲  ꐻՐଞ〙 ጨ Н ךּ  ꒌᐉ

⍏ ᓡ   ꇋꃱ㏡ ︹ ꎠ ㌃ ◵   rꆠĀ̺ሠ ⡌

☮ᇅӓ■   ങ〄ꅺຕ      ꋁ⠪ꇆ Ū˨Ꭱ ☚

[extreme romance]

 esey fe seye eyes efir yese  

ǝsǝʎ ɹıɟǝ sǝʎǝ ǝʎǝs ǝɟıɹ ʎǝsǝ 

ifer yees erif fire seey refi  

ıɟǝɹ ʎǝǝs ǝɹıɟ ɟıɹǝ sǝǝʎ ɹǝɟı 

skis eatf ssik kiss ftae siks  

sʞıs ǝɐʇɟ ssıʞ ʞıss ɟʇɐǝ sıʞs 

tafe ssik etaf fate kiss efat  

ʇɐɟǝ ssıʞ ǝʇɐɟ ɟɐʇǝ ʞıss ǝɟɐʇ 

efil yraen efil life neary life  

ǝɟıן ʎɹɐǝu ǝɟıן ןıɟǝ uǝɐɹʎ ןıɟǝ 

oyj leinesc yoj joy cseniel jyo  

oʎɾ ןǝıuǝsɔ ʎoɾ ɾoʎ ɔsǝuıǝן ɾʎo 

opeh tnihg eoph hpoe ghint hepo  

odǝɥ ʇuıɥƃ ǝodɥ ɥdoǝ ƃɥıuʇ ɥǝdo 

eors hratwm eosr rsoe mwtarh sroe  

ǝoɹs ɥɹɐʇʍɯ ǝosɹ ɹsoǝ ɯʍʇɐɹɥ sɹoǝ 

gihtn eoph thgin night hpoe nthig  

ƃıɥʇu ǝodɥ ʇɥƃıu uıƃɥʇ ɥdoǝ uʇɥıƃ 

onom moeymr oonm mnoo rmyeom mono  

ouoɯ ɯoǝʎɯɹ oouɯ ɯuoo ɹɯʎǝoɯ ɯouo 

solu tresce lsou uosl ecsert ulos  

soןn ʇɹǝsɔǝ ןson nosן ǝɔsǝɹʇ nןos 

shgi yabute hgis sigh etubay ighs  

sɥƃı ʎɐqnʇǝ ɥƃıs sıƃɥ ǝʇnqɐʎ ıƃɥs 

ynrea efli nraey yearn ilfe aerny  

ʎuɹǝɐ ǝɟןı uɹɐǝʎ ʎǝɐɹu ıןɟǝ ɐǝɹuʎ 

ahtfi etwse htiaf faith eswte iftha  

ɐɥʇɟı ǝʇʍsǝ ɥʇıɐɟ ɟɐıʇɥ ǝsʍʇǝ ıɟʇɥɐ 

apni oeblved niap pain devlbeo inpa  

ɐduı oǝqןʌǝp uıɐd dɐıu pǝʌןqǝo ıudɐ 

ielms asrts elims smile strsa smlei  

ıǝןɯs ɐsɹʇs ǝןıɯs sɯıןǝ sʇɹsɐ sɯןǝı 

ovle sarpadei evol loveiedapras elvo  

oʌןǝ sɐɹdɐpǝı ǝʌoן ןoʌǝıǝpɐdɹɐs ǝןʌo 

rttuh retas hturt truth sater huttr  

ɹʇʇnɥ ɹǝʇɐs ɥʇnɹʇ ʇɹnʇɥ sɐʇǝɹ ɥnʇʇɹ 

stras ilmes srats stars semli sarts  

sʇɹɐs ıןɯǝs sɹɐʇs sʇɐɹs sǝɯןı sɐɹʇs 

teasr htutr sraet tears rtuth rsaet  

ʇǝɐsɹ ɥʇnʇɹ sɹɐǝʇ ʇǝɐɹs ɹʇnʇɥ ɹsɐǝʇ 

twese itafh teews sweet hfati esewt  

ʇʍǝsǝ ıʇɐɟɥ ʇǝǝʍs sʍǝǝʇ ɥɟɐʇı ǝsǝʍʇ 

eahdt oyelnl htaed death lnleyo tdhae  

ǝɐɥpʇ oʎǝןuן ɥʇɐǝp pǝɐʇɥ ןuןǝʎo ʇpɥɐǝ 

ealgn ieders legna angel sredei nglae  

ǝɐןƃu ıǝpǝɹs ןǝƃuɐ ɐuƃǝן sɹǝpǝı uƃןɐǝ 

gearc hneeva ecarg grace aveenh craeg  

ƃǝɐɹɔ ɥuǝǝʌɐ ǝɔɐɹƃ ƃɹɐɔǝ ɐʌǝǝuɥ ɔɹɐǝƃ 

maerd erngda maerd dream adgnre dream  

ɯɐǝɹp ǝɹuƃpɐ ɯɐǝɹp pɹǝɐɯ ɐpƃuɹǝ pɹǝɐɯ 

mermyo omno yromem memory onmo oymrem  

ɯǝɹɯʎo oɯuo ʎɹoɯǝɯ ɯǝɯoɹʎ ouɯo oʎɯɹǝɯ 

tbyeua gihs ytuaeb beauty shig aueybt  

ʇqʎǝnɐ ƃıɥs ʎʇnɐǝq qǝɐnʇʎ sɥıƃ ɐnǝʎqʇ 

tcsree luos terces secret soul eersct  

ʇɔsɹǝǝ ןnos ʇǝɹɔǝs sǝɔɹǝʇ sonן ǝǝɹsɔʇ 

thwmar sreo htmraw warmth oers ramwht  

ʇɥʍɯɐɹ sɹǝo ɥʇɯɹɐʍ ʍɐɹɯʇɥ oǝɹs ɹɐɯʍɥʇ 

sdreie nlage erised desire egaln eierds  

spɹǝıǝ uןɐƃǝ ǝɹısǝp pǝsıɹǝ ǝƃɐןu ǝıǝɹps 

ednrag rmdae nedrag garden eadmr garnde  

ǝpuɹɐƃ ɹɯpɐǝ uǝpɹɐƃ ƃɐɹpǝu ǝɐpɯɹ ƃɐɹupǝ 

ighlt remoisp thgil light psiomer tlhgi  

ıƃɥןʇ ɹǝɯoısd ʇɥƃıן ןıƃɥʇ dsıoɯǝɹ ʇןɥƃı 

leciesn jyo ecnelis silence oyj nseicel  

ןǝɔıǝsu ɾʎo ǝɔuǝןıs sıןǝuɔǝ oʎɾ usǝıɔǝן 

nolley edhta yleonl lnoely athde yellon  

uoןןǝʎ ǝpɥʇɐ ʎןǝouן ןuoǝןʎ ɐʇɥpǝ ʎǝןןou 

bslsi bemerac ssilb bliss caremeb islsb  

qsןsı qǝɯǝɹɐɔ ssıןq qןıss ɔɐɹǝɯǝq ısןsq 

venahe rgeac nevaeh heaven caegr ehanev  

ʌǝuɐɥǝ ɹƃǝɐɔ uǝʌɐǝɥ ɥǝɐʌǝu ɔɐǝƃɹ ǝɥɐuǝʌ 

wnsgi iosspan sgniw wings napssoi igsnw  

ʍusƃı ıossdɐu sƃuıʍ ʍıuƃs uɐdssoı ıƃsuʍ 

areth fitinien traeh heart neinitif htera  

ɐɹǝʇɥ ɟıʇıuıǝu ʇɹɐǝɥ ɥǝɐɹʇ uǝıuıʇıɟ ɥʇǝɹɐ 

deleobv ipan devoleb beloved napi vboeled  

pǝןǝoqʌ ıdɐu pǝʌoןǝq qǝןoʌǝp uɐdı ʌqoǝןǝp 

oucht ryittene hcout tuoch enettiyr thcuo  

onɔɥʇ ɹʎıʇʇǝuǝ ɥɔonʇ ʇnoɔɥ ǝuǝʇʇıʎɹ ʇɥɔno 

acerbme sbisl ecarbme embrace lsibs embreca  

ɐɔǝɹqɯǝ sqısן ǝɔɐɹqɯǝ ǝɯqɹɐɔǝ ןsıqs ǝɯqɹǝɔɐ 

bherta efrervo htaerb breath ovrerfe atrehb  

qɥǝɹʇɐ ǝɟɹǝɹʌo ɥʇɐǝɹq qɹǝɐʇɥ oʌɹǝɹɟǝ ɐʇɹǝɥq 

ismepro higtl esimorp promise ltgih orpemsi  

ısɯǝdɹo ɥıƃʇן ǝsıɯoɹd dɹoɯısǝ ןʇƃıɥ oɹdǝɯsı 

rapasdei vleo esidarap paradise oelviedsapar  

ɹɐdɐspǝı ʌןǝo ǝsıpɐɹɐd dɐɹɐpısǝ oǝןʌıǝpsɐdɐɹ 

spsaion gsinw onissap passino wnisg noiasps  

sdsɐıou ƃsıuʍ ouıssɐd dɐssıuo ʍuısƃ uoıɐsds 

wroors irwehps worrso osrrow sphewri sroorw  

ʍɹooɹs ıɹʍǝɥds ʍoɹɹso osɹɹoʍ sdɥǝʍɹı sɹooɹʍ 

feerovr haretb reverof forever bterah rvoreef  

ɟǝǝɹoʌɹ ɥɐɹǝʇq ɹǝʌǝɹoɟ ɟoɹǝʌǝɹ qʇǝɹɐɥ ɹʌoɹǝǝɟ 

swrhepi swoorr respihw whipser rroows ipehrws  

sʍɹɥǝdı sʍooɹɹ ɹǝsdıɥʍ ʍɥıdsǝɹ ɹɹooʍs ıdǝɥɹʍs 

nintieif retha etinifni infinite ahter fieitnin  

uıuʇıǝıɟ ɹǝʇɥɐ ǝʇıuıɟuı ıuɟıuıʇǝ ɐɥʇǝɹ ɟıǝıʇuıu 

nniggol inlngog gnigonl lnoging gognlni logginn  

uuıƃƃoן ıuןuƃoƃ ƃuıƃouן ןuoƃıuƃ ƃoƃuןuı ןoƃƃıuu 

teyerint uchto ytinrete eternity othcu tnireyet  

ʇǝʎǝɹıuʇ nɔɥʇo ʎʇıuɹǝʇǝ ǝʇǝɹuıʇʎ oʇɥɔn ʇuıɹǝʎǝʇ

[robot voice generator]

The list of names is carved around

round the base. round the base

Mesh mire keeps chicks inside.

chicks inside. chicks inside.

Mend the coat before you go

FOR YOU GO FOR YOU GO

rope will bind the seven books

seven books books at once.

the doctor cured him with these pills.

with these pills. with these pills.

or flaw.

or flaw of law.

or flaw of flaw of law.

or flaw or flaw or flaw of flaw of flaw.

It is a band of steel three inches wide.

The ridge on a smooth surface is a bump or flaw.

Both brothers wear the same size.

The jacket hung on the back of the wide chair.

Two blue fish swam in the big tank.

They could laugh although they were sad.

It is a band of steel three inches wide.

The ridge on a smooth surface is a bump or flaw.

The lazy cow lay in the cool grass.

He wheeled the bike past the winding road.

It's easy to tell the depth of a well.

At a certain high level the air is pure.

The ridge on a smooth surface is a bump or flaw.

The fish twisted and turned on the bent hook.

Calves thrive on tender spring grass.

We are sure that one war is enough.

The ridge on a smooth surface is a bump or flaw.

The bloom of the rose lasts a few days.

[roadside attraction]

And gosh, we’re mining for gems after dark: there are more ways than one to say one, and less ways than two to say three. And maybe we find ourselves drifting between them by accident and then suddenly notice ourselves lodged up on the communicative curb. And then how we veer is new. There’s just no way to play a musical instrument ironically, and none of us are playing the same game and that's good because there are quarters and halves. And in general, that's kinda how I operate. Here, outside. It's this. It's the distance and the movement between the distances. And there’s nuances to be done. And the givers don't see their givenness or their highness. That's one say to weigh it. That's one saying to wayward with, to weigh in on these sayings. What was their name? Dying for a cause I don't understand, pretending I do, with all the work chugging down the gullet, frame by frame. This one is thicker than a sardine can. Cut and dry. That's just how this works. I no longer have the inside scoop. And you're not on the outside anymore. And we can ask together about the rules here. Outside. We used to think in ways that gave mirrors the runs for their monies. And that includes exclusion, to exude by excretion. We no longer use language or discursive tools to do our thinking. A blatant lie full of not so blatant truths. We hold these pens to trace our steps. That's an ironic situation: being not the same as something, a fish, say.

[language]

This archaic ritual of contracting disease

to spread on burnt toast. Or the back of my neck

on the beach with my friends and my brother

with his cool new hat

and my sister

with her sweet way of saying goodbye.

[starting over]

My friend just did something crazy. Something really crazy. He took this poem I read and wrote it. And then, after he read it, after he had written it, after he had it written by himself, he asked me to write something for him to say in my own voice as a response. So I sent him a recording of what I would have written for him to say as me, and then he read it back to me.

And when I listened to it, I started writing it down. And I started over at every moment. I began again and again. Every time I heard it, I started again. Over and over I started beginning. And the longer I listened, the darker it got.

That's what he told me. And when I when I came outside I noticed it was dark. The sky had already become dark. It darkened. And there was a sense that it had been dark for a long time, but also there was the necessity for the light for the light to begin again, in a kind of aggressive, tyrannical way, and I understand that. Well sadly I say that in a kind of patronizing way, as if  I'm not affected by the day.

But it's an it's another move altogether to gain power for the Empire of Night, which I represent. And we are part of that company. The Company of Night, a subsidiary of the Party of Knife Memory, a much larger conglomerate consortium cohortium. Nasturtiums are spiciest in the morning. Spicier than night flowers.

And there's creeping that happens. Walking around and listening. And doors are opened on the other side, and doors are closed on this side. And there's a sense of private excommunication in the night. And I remain there as long as long as the night is. And I’ll be neutral in the night and do exactly what I need to do.

And I’ll  pretend to have sympathy for the those who go about in the day as if it were the best time of day, and as if it were supposed to be that way. I will pretend to understand them. I'll go along with it. But it will be difficult because I know that it isn’t and it’s not. There's a whole there's a whole section of the night devoted to doing only what must be done, and the next thing I do will be in accordance with that realization, and all these anti-reflective gestures will creep in and brush up against me, awkward and paranoid.

[poem 3]

This line explicitly references the possibility of composing poem 1. This line is a metrical cog that is indispensable for the proper functioning of poem 2. Poem 2 is a sublation of poem 1. I washed my sheets, which was difficult because I was so attached to her. This line enacts a metaleptic slippage for emotional effect.

To create this line, the author meticulously copied out and pasted up around town letter by letter and word for word the acclaimed classic of literary world history world literary history using nothing but a brush and ink, a large roll of thin newsprint, and a bucket of wheat paste, a process so laborious that many asked why he hadn’t  used a simpler computational method. This line is an entire novel, an acclaimed classic of the literary world, copied and pasted. This line gives an image of the system it is an integral part of, but only achieves this by stepping outside of the system and directly referencing it, thereby betraying itself as separate from and not integral to the system itself. Replacement to what effect?

In a topological semantics, one image of an aesthetic system involves the maximization of ambiguity, while networks of symbols continually surround a point of critical intensity. The locus amoenus for poetry is at this point of critical intensity just before complexity begins to wane and entropy continues to exponentiate. P equals q because when I look into the mirror and lean forward, the guy in the mirror leans back.

[line of duty]

Cloth, but no clothes.

Frost but not froze.

A price to pay when the night turns to day.

I've put on a thousand such cloaks.

[moments]

Puny and belated angles of time ruin the middle of an altruistic depression, angels leveling unlearned interruptions in his hunting. Frozen and impudent, he could not bear his advantage, this lame neighborhood, a poor nothing in this world of ours. Compared to undulation, leaden showers, the grape canister takes a spill and a stab at facts. A tedious romance goes by the title of holy falsehood.

A chore beheld in a house not handsome, paraphrased in the great envoy of muslin veiled pink maidens that trade a question for the kind of rhyme that joins horse sweat to Rochester Helicopter, plummet mandala. Octachords. Earth appears lost without. And outer runaround. The problem of surges. Gradating.

Branches Tweeze. You think at what scared Electronics Square big blue evens.

Out and lost. Root. The problem sacked through ground floor window. Involuntary.

Revision. Wrote. Flush. Herb.

Whose foreign body forgiven argues with some dreamy chap who took a hurtful spirit to the modern animal as an antique vegetable guide. No penalty attached.

The novel can no longer fringe or look like engine. Like dead fish or cloth money, maintenance of decision persists and Luck flows. Insulted by Expression’s request to return to dead society. And this scruffed crystal makes excavations in wooden famine, touching speech, piercing radiant caves of greetings. Lust balanced by doting gallops, the sanguine probationer making brainy observations like, look, right there on the wall near the top, in two small symmetrical arcs.

[envelope]

Slip, friend, slip.

Slip. Slip off the conscience. Needs accuser. Guilt lay. Guilt cut for time.

For plug, conspired flings to capitulate cleats. Understudy disgorges clinks, crinkling unswathed caduceus where the voice proceeds until looking through seems to him a mile per minute with woman in hand, the hatband tight. Dick's hatband tight, hatching battens apart for tear, to tear away from Mushroom Musical.

Pared home under two winged clouds, rent up for joy, to keep things hostile in this brutish psychic trade. The zonal roots are such that trees require contempt to walk stiffly. On worn out doorstops and in the calendar's robe, Tree Boss passed through daily grinds in choleric subclauses innumerable to escort time fast diminishing down channels of mortal perfume.

Vulgar hearts crow bar arrows from Reason. Potent armies in linen statue bodies, the bridge, stilletoed lexington desperation. Which attending can most oblige? Bawdry carnies behind the rotunda, too far to push behind March, against the crisp burn of an ampersand to put distance in detail.

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