Lito Elio Porto
You will know the essential triumvirate from its viscosity. Irrigators of soma–body tree and machine–irrigators of all moving bodies. The essential triumvirate is further proof that animal and vegetable and machine are all but a single thing, a singular nomad of multiple scents who seeks only motion yet leaves only stillness in its wake.
The well-oiled tree pushes and pushes and pushes through the ether, until it finds its head above the clouds. From which point profanities are spit at god.
The well-sapped man devours an entire world each day, by night off-gassing an invisible carnival of digestion. Look for rivers of rats and embankments of detritus.
The well-blooded engine compresses and explodes a continuous fortune of dreams until its carcass finds the ultimate and wet dream of disintegration. The shiniest exoskeleton, pigmented and waxed, will show you the way to the apparently endless path of longings turned to soot.
There is but one soma in motion, and it requires to be filled at all times with blood or sap or oil. Contrary to prejudice, it makes no difference which irrigator is used, only that it be pure, and undiluted.