A Suck and a Sell
| Who goes there? hankering, gross, mystical, nude; | |
| How is it I extract strength from the beef I eat? | |
| What is a man, anyhow? What am I? What are you? | |
| All I mark as my own, you shall offset it with your own; | |
| Else it were time lost listening to me. | 385 |
| I do not snivel that snivel the world over, | |
| That months are vacuums, and the ground but wallow and filth; | |
| That life is a suck and a sell, and nothing remains at the end but threadbare crape, and tears. |
Walt Whitman - Leaves of Grass.
Labels: Art, ass, Octopus's Garden
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