Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: ftds: I, Walt Whitman
Date: Fri, 01 Dec 2000 17:23:20 GMT
Organization: - Before you buy.
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I, Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son,
turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding,
a follower of elections no less than a follower of erections!

I clasp to my broad hairy chest Al Gore the stiff,
of Senator Al Gore Senior the son,
I press close to my heart his love of the environment
and his hand down the pants of corporate America,
massaging its money, massaging it hard!

I clasp to my bosom George W. Bush,
I lick his rat eyes with my quick darting tongue,
I rub myself up against him sensuously,
I wail to him piteously all through the bright night,
wanting his shifty tongue on my American skin,
I revel in his back-slapping American stupidity,
for he is me and I is you,
and we are all together Americans,
brown yellow pink and Texans!

I clasp to my loins the coiffed wonder boys and girls of CNN,
Bernie I burn for you, Greta you're the greatest,
Larry King please let me be your Queen!
I pant lustily for your words in my ears,
I press my face against my television screen in ecstasy
and speak to you the password primeval, so softly,
knowing that you hear, knowing that you heed.

I careen about my apartment in a naked fog,
bumping into furniture, bleeding onto the carpets,
crying out in joy and in bittersweet grief,
asking every face that appears before me,
asking the question that has become for me the sign of democracy:

Have you outstript the rest? are you the President?


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Before you buy.