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December 05, 2004

I Once Was Myself (Tribute to Walt Whitman)

While looking at the bottom of my shoe, I whispered,
"Walt, you don't look so good lately."

I once was myself
but not knowing, opened my self
and read.
My host seduces me and opens me fuller
Fear fills me as I clutch for my veil,
Too late, I blush at my naked soul.
Fragile and timid my host grips me close
My senses engage...
I taste the sea foam from upon the ferry-
I hear the warble of the bird frantic for its mate-
I feel her hands from aft the blind groping
my sinew, my groin...
I smell the lilacs.
I see the leaves fall from the little boy's fists-
Each scene tugs till my flesh is full taut-
I falter, and am scattered.
Arteries pump blood, pump blood
into the leaves of grass.
I embrace my host fully.
And finally within the bowels of the earthworm
within the muck of the eddies
under the surge of the current
under the boot-soles of your feet
lies my soul; my host
my brother
Truly I become
a multitude
Fatally embraced and

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