on seeking tribe iii

id say in my vastly limited experience for what else can the living say about themselves that the two beating blood alliances with death are in nature and art these grounds and claws of insignificance disappearance allness which was first of course might be the central question of our night struggles and whether any precedence would be of an ontological or chronological aspect but these comprehensions aside we say in nature as being a critic careerist environmentalist zoologist ranger curator student professor adjudicator ed conservators directors designers registrars archivists doesnt in itself particularly qualify you for having entered death through its intimate family members whether parents siblings children who knows neither of course if you live alone in a hut in a remote forest or devote your life to writing poetry have you necessarily entered one can never write a poem and be a poet one can never leave the megalopolis and be in nature for poetry and nature and art and death are spiritual principles and the artifacts and manifestations we associate with them through the jurisprudence of language and culture while they may in certain places at certain times in certain ways to certain eyes appear to point to the principles they arent the principles themselves

if youre quick to object based on various logics and preferences we dont disagree with you but also no matter how high argumentation might pile there still is death and it is the outside thats so outside its in

religion politics philosophy scholarship love all have often laid claim in their littlebig ways to be adequate portals and may on various stages of that interminably tedious podcast history have strutted with sufficient fervour to gain applause from the fadding cowed 

even that monster and usurper war doesnt fulfill its apparently legitimate claim to be a or even the door and interpreter of death for war while it may very truly have a deep kinship with death and legally cast its accomplishments in marble stone iron thievedpoetry wherever whonyms throng its relation is only robust along the first few hundred metres or so if we can speak of distance on these avenues of the passages between the living and the dead after that and the afters the parliament and agriculture and altar and bed of death and whats death other than bed war as everything but deaths forgotten and so one must go to those who know bed in all its forms and love sleep and hibernation and the infinite loss of love and who are these miscreants other than the artists of flowers and the artists of flowers

but if alls forgotten but death how can nature and art access death as art and nature themselves are forgotten and death dies supreme in its forbidden enclosure well the five or fewer percent have always known regardless of the whims of state and prostrations of the bulk that death and life lay in comprehensive coitus each member wholly in the other and moving oh so hungrily like slippery maggots and how do they together know this in the cruelties of oppression and vagaries of governance and seasons of time and seeming divisions of space and meat what were now calling nature and art are just fleetingly obligate names in the nile of names and all the damming of the potentates cannot equal even a yoctagram of the real & latent energies of that flow and so the commons of our everdissolving tribes the placing of their meat in that one and true holy river and there alls life and death and they do not move but the waters moving and moving is the water

a religion without religion and temple without temple congress without politicians and governance without hierarchy oh family of our wanton sacred blood

a language crawls from this 

a language taking no subject