Native Disclosure

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Beware my body and my soul beware, above all of crossing your arms and assuming the sterile attitude of the spectator, for life is not a spectacle a sea of grief's is not a proscenium and a man who wails is not a dancing bear.

Yes it would be worthwhile to study clinically in detail the steps taken by Hitler and Hitlerism and to reveal to the very distinguished, very humanistic, very Christian bourgeois of the twentieth century that without his being aware of it. He has a Hitler inside him that Hitler inhabits him, that Hitler is his demon, that if he rails against him he is being inconsistent and that at bottom. What he cannot forgive Hitler for is not crime in itself the crime against man, it is not the humiliation of man as such, it is the crime against the white man the humiliation of the white man and the fact that he applied it to Europe colonialist procedures, which until then had been reserved exclusively for the Arabs of Algeria, the coolies of India, and the blacks of Africa.

I would rediscover the secret of great communications and great combustions. I would say storm. I would say river. I would say tornado. I would say leaf. I would say tree. I would be drenched by all rains, moistened by all dews. I would roll like frenetic blood on the slow current of the eye of words turned into mad horses into fresh children into clots into curfew into vestiges of temples into precious stones remote enough to discourage miners. Whoever would not understand me would not understand any better the roaring of a tiger.

 


Submitted: May 06, 2021

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