MOFO

back when you were functional

i stole your tylenol

because i found it plausible

that your tormentor, my uncle

would find himself in pain

he'd go looking for the bottle

among his stash of wolfbain

under ottoman and table

in the effing baby's cradle

until he'd think and say my name

but ya this is a parable

and of course i feel terrible

and should have known full well

that mofo'd go and take it out on you

that pain can be transferable

by Jan

How outcasts become snobs

La LaChama and Peg have trapped Reptily in an underground cage. LaChama of course is a yolk-split of Reptily meaning they used to be the same. 

Peg, a genuine queen, was there fronting a crinkly black cape in her most Jan-like wo-manifestation:

PEG (tilting head): We have you together with us now darling so why not see if we can make the most of it.

REPTILY: Make the most of this! My head spine can grow long enough to pike you right through these ridiculous iron bars. 

LACHAMA: She is our godmother. 

REPTILY (spitting): Shhpht. Your petty associations. I am a monster!

PEG: My poor darling. Let's sit.

LACHAMA (sitting): I love you sister.

REPTILY (cry-dancing throwing her body against the bars iron ceiling rock floor of the restraint breaking a collar bone and a quasi-kneecap cry-yelling): Please just leave me here to die!

PEG (sitting and weeping): We are all grown now. The only power we have over you is those bars. We would prefer to take you in our arms. 

REPTILY (short harsh doglike breaths): ...

Phyliss [Trans.]

olive drab

It was not pre-weathered

I weathered it 

As i myself weathered

Now me and it

At ease & unfatigued

Avail ourselves

To answer The Question

& we find there's

Nothing to figure out

Brief appearance

Questions arose as to how any high-end power much less the greatest power of all could at the same time be called or be trusted to be a good power

Before we could even arrive at the be good v do good debate we had to define good and soon a bunch of us had nodded off on the potent vines of Dhubba Berra Chank

That's when her meaty tail smashed through the stone wall of our dorm and we didn't even think it was a hurricane because no power matches the rage of a K bitch 

Because we are a moral species like dogs we remind ourselves not to blame her for being herself acting in accordance with her primaeval mission 

The conscience of one species may randomly overlap with another but the universe is a place of blotting not stroking condensing and scattering not planning and building

Our whole concept of improvement of oneself or otherwise was confirmed as stupid while we screamed and begged and choked on dust and the funk of the beast

The more of our brothers we saw dead the more we ourselves felt responsible for their tragedy not fortunate to have avoided it

Like the hugest possible period at the end of a sentence once she had achieved a level of saturation in terms of deconstruction she quietly shat

from: The Socio-Politically Recovered Texts of Mthyuh & Co

She started out smiling way too big so big that some couldn't keep looking

Now we can be shocked in another way still more disturbing

You see her purse her lips and shrink her mouth with muscles not oft used

It hurts a lot but not from gravity of topic which could never disabuse

Her of the smile a smile bigger than one would think anatomically possible

A smile taking up perhaps 40–48% of the face that's visible

Ya it's a shame a lady of LaVajra has to be a politician 

Which interrupts her nirvanic rhythm

Especially whilst being shamed for her bliss

Her mouth is a reminder of Mthyuh's hungry maw

And we should only thank her for this

Our journey homeward is mapped to her craw

The next moment after realizing she was immortal

It was La Chama's first moment as well after all

An involuntary spasm of compassion and responsibility toward all life rose in her heart

Even for a nephew who said she'd been admired far more than she played the part

To Missy it was love sustained her up to the beginning

When from the jetsam of burst chrysalis stepped forward a leader darkly grinning

from: "Heroic What Now? LaChama's Post-Crack Propagandists"
from: The Socio-Politically Recovered Texts of Mthyuh & Co
Franz Gressive Stone Press, Chukkachank
Phyliss [Trans.]

My Trip to a Place Where I Am Gone

As we learned in the Shampoo Wars a sudsing agent is not the same as a cleansing agent 

but after watching Reptily swim-crying in a bottom-lit tureen among thick

garbanzo shuck at a mock-cannibalistic pride event

i realized that a career is an arc even perhaps the upper half of a round

the bottom portion of which you spend under water or under ground

first being relieved of any bioburden

then sudsed cleansed returned right-side up to the pearl you started in

there are prayer wheels spinning instead of bicycle rims at twice the din

this must be the first place on the journey my good deeds've packed for me

this shadowbox of a town heaving all its energy direct to the abysmality

the ends of every street rise against the horizon

as if these intersections of temples plinths pools ghats 

existed only within a black dot

but still perhaps too much to love and administer mindfully

or can an anti-career yield kinetic powers due to the addition of gravity?

from "Notes from Beyond: My Trip to a Place Where I Am Gone"
Dr. Donna Thong
Journal for the Institute of the Meta-Cognitive Talk Therapy Apologist Movement

people black and girl power

after a long pause in the combat department we find you putting up your dukes again how do you feel about that

i'm glad i've still got the dukes for putting up as needed

but isn't the real test in the delivery

yes and thanks for your reminder

there's that way they press the backs of one another's gloves together and also touch heads as a sign of respect and good sportsmanship

even though it's not sport

you've often commented on 

and there's frequently not much respect involved at all but don't get me started look i'm still mourning the Death of Shab 

...

i think i see her i still step gingerly so as not to upset her and strangely often speak to her as well right baby? hi hi hi hi whatcha doin? lala lalala lalalalala

mmm mmhmm

so having to prep and gird once again for institutional thuckfuggery may feel harsh but it may also get my proteins and enzymes whatever at more optimum levels break through the fatigue of grief

do you mean LaLa

ya of course Shab was her prototype but he'll not die soon

or ever really

correct now there's one with the battle fatigue and the heavy weight of the ages weighing on his empty saddle and the backbone that cannot withstand more pressure

but if it breaks he'll still not die

correct

he wouldn't heal entirely from that but it doesn't matter because he just changes the rules from any point that suits his evolving if disfiguring corporeal state. He updates our expectations rather than depending doggedly on ancient texts for example

he accommodates his disability into a relic of the Divine Unknowing and increases follower hits

right but we're not just talking about courtesy accommodations he can change the foundational principals upon which he and all of us have always operated under and from there down through to instruction manuals and daily shiv novenas

one difficult deity can shake the entire pantheon 

they say this power does not necessarily spring from good judgment or measured action

in his case yes that's obvious they say it is a random power

they say it is a dangerous power

they say it is a hypnotic power

they say it is a power among powers

they say he is powerful with or without power

they say he owes no one an explanation of his powers

they say the word power is insufficiently representative of this level of power

they say it is a power leaked across boundaries by his ancestors

they say it is a power he somehow inherits from his descendants who do not yet live

they say that power herself envies his particularly intense force of power

they say that even a deity will starve on power alone but what more does he have besides power yet he does not starve

they say it is an unsettling power a power too great for a single source

they say it is a power that laughs at attempts to describe its power

they say it is a power that has compassion for individuals though may be fickle at the same rate as anyone

they say it is a power that is impossible to contain exploit manage distract destroy

they say it is a power greater than language itself which is already greater than explosives

they say it is a power to which the only option is surrender

they say it is a power so powerful as to be indifferent to obedience

they say it is a power that sensing flattery will turn away so furiously as to cause the sycophant to implode

they say it is a power for whom supernatural physical mystical judicial administrative people black and girl power are not mutually exclusive but rather just a few of the categories available to the holder of this all-encompassing power

Phyllis [trans.]

Drombs bopping on d'po

Drombs bopping on d'po

alms scaduh donda flo

caint git change foa dolla no mo

cain goeda wurshi poda place will blo

Fo poke beggin ondeyneeze

Rich foke due in what deypleeze

Middafoke ackin like deyaint got tea

Gahdoan ansa buddy allway see

by Missy

Dear dodge

Dear Dodge

You like to go around ramming your head into things don't you. You are like a goat. Who is neither playful nor aggressive just very rammy. Has long given up bothering to question it. Look at your eyes with the rectangular smudges for pupils. You have a free pass to insanity.

Re: Death of LaLa, turns out the soul sure it's great but does require electricity to operate. I think the whole school of molecules of carbon whatever carry the spirit intact to another place where it can then be rehydrated integrally have lost their case. And what would be the meaning of having a soul in outer space or without containment in flesh. Is the soul not rhetorically, culturally and environmentally enmeshed with the experiences of a closed-body, one-planet existence? Even after consummating its state of perfection in a graft with the godhead, what then would a soul do what purpose would it serve. The whole concept of purpose would be stupid. Even being itself is rendered ridiculous.

Is that your deal? Are you like already passed over and bored as shit? 

In a higher ring of heaven perhaps you could hinge in with the total mind, so that your brain would be the entire universe, and that would be soothing or one would hope. Or soothing is a body-contained experience only and a free mind would be happy just thinking and shutting off its corporal support functions, double down on sensory and recreative voyeurism. 

Or not because the senses? Also a contained-in-body reality. Curiosity as well undoubtedly. 

The only other option would be at the very highest level, being and knowing everything. Which could happen without a corpus but sounds challenging and burdensome. And of course, why?

In this moment and place, my love is yours.

Donna

Pandolora

In the exhilaration of the final stages of flowering

Hermaphroditism can creep out from between the folds

Her male structures burst upon herself and any nearby 

Sisters

Pandolora do you cry? Why do you cry

You have taken back the reproductive process

Even though you yourself were merely a 

Clone

The stress in your environment, not your life choices

A mechanism for spreading pollen to your generations

Supersedes genetic pre-decisioning and intended commercial

Purpose

por Sto. Rabo

Sadness of the harvest

it should of never had happen

ho reason is come t'dis

izza orbiduf d'planets

if we had some moons to keep warm all year

not tyrant stars that care not who we are

we'd have more room to plant and grow my dear

lunar together travelling far

i saw about moonlight 

onna inuhneh an i 

fell in luh thinkinuh

moonlight is a freak light it's a re-light not a true light mind

more moons would make the night a verdant brite-lit kind

enough for us to leave the stars and all their fire behind 

moonlight onna inuhneh

freak like an immigruh

soun like a typo luh

no true flower is too flower-like no true home needs starlight

we used to be so burdened by the laws of nature are a lie

let's chart our own course thru the universe moons at our side

love that take away erythang

ner give it back

juss wen yr ship comin in, comin in

to keep you grateful love at harvest time someone must die

death sweeps you in its wings to the re-knowing of impermanence

and leaves you high and dry unlike a tropic island paradise 

take R moons an go

grab some mo on d'way

harviss ery day

[Trans. note: 
For the longer verses, think choral samba; shorter ones, a slow tom-tom. -Phyllis]

Vines overtaking brutalist architecture

We have to live in a place where people with a lot of shit want to

wave it in your face. 

Me have no plans for these moons minutes seconds to come besides

occupying space.

Freedom's not to run to roam not to walk away or come on home or

keep up with a pace.

Inscription 4, scrawl, buccal to hinge
MPS-supervised excavation of Illyn's Diving Board site
Phyllis [trans.]

the prayer itself is an answered prayer

the prayer itself is an answered prayer

an oath reaches the air and wondering

if the mountain is listening

all the mixes of genes and genders

trickle upward rendered by flame 

disappear just the same

mother coughing up sweet poison

rings of voice on narrow ambitus

with Ilyn and his abacus

the prayer interrupts the transition

our mission remains at the border

in the naked disorder

from: LaChama Confronts LaVajraja
Preservation Society Collection
Phyllis [trans.]

Tranny whatchya got?

you know whatchr, you know whatchr you know whatchr

gonna get a little of, girly get a little of, get a little of, girl

you know whatchr gonna get, gonna get a little of 

from our God above.

boy oh boy i betcha caynt i betcha caynt you cayn't guess

whatchr prezzie's gonna be oh boy, oh boy this prezzie is

the biggest biggest thing you ever seen oh boy a prezzie

from our God above. 

tranny tranny tranny whatchya gonna be? you a tranny that's

a very plain to see oh tranny tranny tranny are you granpa

or a granny whatchya got whatchya got tranny what you got

from our God above?

[Traditional.]
Dirty Hymns of the MPS Era

Phyllis [Trans.]

algorithmic brank

Phramsupply had developed an algorithmic brank that would allow or force others to go back and relive painful uncomfortable controversial contested incriminating moments in your past even if you yourself had no desire to do so. Their fair use claim amounted to the regulatory availability of all of your behavior conducted in the Open Domain which meant outside of content deliberately prepped and vetted for release to the public oracle dispensers, which of course would upon release also become Open Domain as well as intentionally pre-published for all time and all purposes. 

This meant that both private and public entities with private and public monitoring and recording operations could negotiate the content of your entire life since The Crack without your knowledge or participation. This would never do of course especially for those who could afford to stop it. This is what led to the Federation of Jansdaad Dads' (FJD) notorious assassination of  Mthyuh Preservation Society Pilgrim General Chang K. Chang at Chang K. Chang Chank during Same Moons since many Same Moons now. 

From: Statement

Missionaries of Same Moons 
Phyllis [trans.]

My associations prevent me from any movement at this time

My associations prevent me from any movement at this time

Haha! I'm just asking you to get yr ass off my pijama soze i can put it on

And I'm telling you i have associations with moving my ass that are painful

Oh i thought you meant like your associations like friends affiliate joiny-join groups...

Don't get me started on friends and groups they all have horrifying associations

Horrifying soze i can have my pijama

In that if i move if i move toward an object i start to receive visions and those visions are flashbacks of horrifying experiences with the object

So it's not the objects really but what they remind you of

Associations

Uh huh. Pijama?

Let me ask you are you ready to move toward a fresh horror

No i don't like that

Then why not find a different pijama because i can accept it where it is now

Then i should try an also accept it, is that it

One way to move is to move on in a conversation

Ima move your face in a minute

I understand that you love me so your threats are more like caresses

For someone who is scared shitless you seem too randy

Don't get me started on randy

Tell me this do you also have horrific associations with moving away from rather than toward objects

No receding objects diminish fractally in terms of threat

I am going to walk backwards while you toss me my pijama

Sonic remnant trace dump SX0007
Location: Bedroom, Recovery Lodge F, Lip of Mthyuh
Thought to be: Jan Jansdaad's former husband Jan and unknown female
by Phyllis [trans.]

sloping mowed public grass

sloping mowed public grass

rectangle visible from the sky

dips and drains to embrace flooding

pulls in light public flotsam

which earns a municipal mulching

mown to fodder for new layers 

there should have been an intervention

aimed at the plague in the upper tips 

of the oldest circle of growth in the district

planted for ritual meaning or use

by native savages or civilians turned savage

where foxes and children ne'er do play

due to the border owners and their brutes

who claim and guard the plot complicitly 

participate in de facto no-trespass 

by Mike Worker
Table 6 
Shouting Moons Poetry & Crafts Festival

To burn the shiv

Basically what you're handling is a thing that's on fire, a living thing that's dying in the fire. Few have seen the tiny flammable animals that get trapped in the sea garbage and hauled ashore to burn as shiv. 

The immolation of innocence then turns out to be a central factor in so much of lavajraja. 

We don't know that these creatures are innocent only that they are helpless to escape our will. 

And that they seem to be born to be set on fire and smoked in a pipe. 

Yes. 

And that it's no coincidence that the molecules of their carbonated flesh connect with unique nirvanic receptors in cross-species administration by inhalation, sublingually or crammed into orifices. 

It seems that way. 

Of course who even thinks about it? Right. Hardly anyone. 

They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh

You were saying that you feel estranged from your own tribe because you believe that they are not able to fully decode comprehend some of the physical characteristics of your face that have developed over time

Age lines gone develop over time on anyone i'm talking about unexpected lines and even deeper structural changes that are not expressed in any of my blood relatives.

And you believe that these changes have been the result of your lived experience

Right, because my predestined trajectory was corrupted and has continued to become so in a dizzyingly fractalizing pattern. My experience has been so different than lidderly any of the Jans ever. 

Jan, i'd like you to reflect on something, and i want you to take your time to respond. Remember that you are in a circle of safety and respect here. 

What is it?

When you say that your experience has been so different, i wonder what examples come to mind, examples of experiences, perhaps, that set you so dramatically apart, as you describe it, from your family and peers in the Chank Lands? 

You are standing at the top of a gigantic scaffolding braced against the face of a high cliff. You have to hold on to a railing to avoid being brushed away by the wind from my nostrils. All that just so that you can look into my face as we speak. I can dart out my tongue and have you whole way in the back of my throat to savor all day if i wished. 

Is that what you would want to do? 

See what i mean? You wonder if i might ingest you. Doesn't make for fun family occasions. 

Well, give me an example. Because apart from what you've just pointed out, i don't feel estranged from you at all. And we just met. 

Ok, i was out on a festival day just soaring not bothering anyone except that i had to drop excrement and there was no way i was going all the way out to sea because I had to be by my Jans for lunch. So there was a nice anonymous patch of green grass aim fire done. 

K's are notorious for dropping dung on undesignated sites. And it was festival so you didn't do the laughing cry, i assume. 

Right. So i get to my Jans and Jan's like never mind we're not going. I'm like what do you mean not going where. She says ya we were gonna have a picnic but some mthyuhfarking K just dunged up the whole park. The tables are completely buried. Alls you can see is a flagpole sticking up there where the field office was. 

Ah, yes, that does sound like a very good example of what you're talking about. Delightful! 

It's one of my favorites. I love to tell that one. She was sobbing so hard but she held out the palm of her hand to signal that i should not come near to comfort her. 

She cried not for the spoiled picnic, but for the devastating toll your genetic path has taken upon your most elemental networks and interfaces. 

Devastating i don't know about that. 

Certainly profound. 

Ya, i'm surprised you would say devastating i had you tagged more as your difference has widened the diversity of the family or just one more aspect of someone they love etc. 

That's what i meant. Of course. And you? How do you see it?

Sobbing is surrender. They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh. I am not the reality police-- i don't have to be. My presence alone jars one into submission: to me, and therefore to lavajraja.

I'm a peacock on a road

it's taken a while, but the good memories are coming on

all that cement, and then the stone, scorpions poisoned springs

there were words that were pictures of another tongue

i think of the smiling faces among the barbed warnings

a subset of the females was eager to bring you in

they could announce their thirst with bright scarves whereas the men

were so undercover you might mistake them for border patrol guys

working an angle down at the same bar as the wandering eyes

off the same parking lot as the hooptie-tel and the vittle grill 

you can get your mom across or get off with your cousin's boss

there's dim lights and cold drinks like any dive in the heat sink

a private betting parlor more than a moment to think for a wayside crawler

there's a highway runs through

but it cuts us in two

there's a bridge, but it's costly to use

i'm a peacock on a road

you're the last horned toad

in a place that only we knew

by Silvia