Shit to the Spirit
After romanticism,
symbolism,
dadaism,
surrealism,
lettrism,
and marxism,
i.e, a hundred 'schools' of political, philosophical or literary subversion, there is one word, one thing that remains standing,one value that hasn't budged,
that's kept its ancient pre-eminence through thick and thin,
and that word and thing is spirit,
the value of the spiritual thing;
as if it sufficed by statement
to make that magnetic word stand out on a corner of the page, so that everything truly were said.
As if it were understood in fact and as principle and essence
that spirit is the innate term,
the model value,
___the apex word
by which the old atavistic automatism of the beast named man might get going without jamming at the start.
For the universal shaft would be well greased.
It has been understood everywhere, for I don't know how many centuries of kabbala, hermeticism, mystagogy, platonism and psychosurgery,
that the body is the son of the spirit,
that it belongs to it like a density, a conglomeration
___or a magic mass,
and that one cannot conceive of body as ever being, in terms of its inborn way, the materialization of some somber marriage between the spirit and its own power, the terminus of an elite journey of the spirit along its own road...
