Jun 07, 2006 02:07
I worked, all week.
The 40 hours my society deems fit for a citizen.
I now watch my girlfriend play dr.mario and I drink lager listening to mission of burma.
Tommorow i drive to wildeness and relax.
And death breathed on me, and now pine forests will.
Ginsberg forgot the wilderness and blood, got lost in the wine and cock.
thats what i think tonite as i pick up' leaves of grass' for the hundredth time and not " planet news ' collection for the 9th time to be wowed, i need to feel small and awed, and not alone,....whitman is the only american poet that makes me american in the greatest sense!
I growing old!...I un-emabarrassed to be from america, or lonely for dirt and forests. I feel un-alone!, unahamed for melocholy, and invigored to walk nowhere.
thank you walt.