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The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad.
6 A child said What is the grass?Our foe was no sulk in his ship I tell you, (said he His was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be; Along the lower'd eve he came horribly raking.I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.Do you see O my brothers and sisters?My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power, but in his own right, Wicked rather than virtuous out of conformity or fear, Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak, Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than sharp.I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.Down-hearted doubters dull and excluded, Frivolous, sullen, moping, angry, affected, dishearten'd, atheistical, I know every one of you, I know the sea of torment, doubt, despair and unbelief.Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person geslacht dader register pocatello (idaho) how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.It shall be you!What is a man anyhow?Far-swooping elbow'd earth-rich apple-blossom'd earth!Have you outstript the rest?A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.11 Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore, Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly; Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks, Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemies, nine times their number, was the price they took in advance, Their colonel was wounded and their ammunition gone, They treated for an honorable.
You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare, And any thing.And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths, (No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.) I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven, O suns-O grass of graves-O perpetual transfers and promotions, If you.All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.12 The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market, I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls, coming naked to me at night, Crying by day, Ahoy!
Night of south winds-night of the large few stars!
Becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the shadows.