PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

"Not the air, delicious and dry, the

 "air of the ripe summer, bears

 "lightly along white down-balls

 "of myriads of seeds, wafted,

 "sailing gracefully, to drop

 "where they may . . ."

---Walt Whitman, Live Oak, With Moss, I

A Junior, he guided so much of my first---

Freshman---year.  During a most memorable

study session (Whitman's Calamus poems), he

declared that our socks must not come off (like our

other clothes now floored

in defiance of old prudes' and haters' fierce

homophobia---even on that campus):

the socks (matching pairs of semi-sheerness) should

not come off until we had come off and our

sweetnesses were launched

on to, or into, each other, or streaks sprayed

on those socks after our lofters had launched ropes

of our glistening sweetness (iridescent,

having warmed in our intimate cores---from there,

fragrant, flavorful

and capable of embodying our love

at the peak of homogenous bliss, without

thought for imposed inhibitive intrusions).

Splashdown followed.  Then we kept just our socks on 

to read Whitman's poems.

Starward