amongst books

amongst books

Friday, May 31, 2019

Whitman anagramed

on the occasion of Walt Whitman's 200th birthday, i give  you this anagram of the first part of Song of Myself


1
Bright eyed clit is once
timid foe;        Earth’s overnight helmet is heartening homes;
No methodology—the persimmon let theft flit well with it,
tightwad counters that high rpm fluorescence halfhearted old Hum.

Oh revolutionaries, wildebeests: stop two, watch botched hornets cum, “death,
ah,” he disadvantaged.            The wooden heads offered white hell feasibility.
He dashed. bottom ouchless day’s foundation.
Hotty wolf eater buns wish oiled sheath end out.

2

Electro healthy woman’s bones fly acoustic vodkahood.      Buff’s kabob malcontent
Ms Tete-a-tete theatrical fleshpot chiffon fed feather map.

Fuckathon bop eats sex, aches reflection.
Hush compassionately baffled apex.  Man, we open interrelations.
Illusionist insists jism ship fissions hid reincarnationist body.          Whoa! Hilts jut.

Whorish eighth's wide ex daffodil's kink kit toes—
aha, Eros’ disenfranchisement silence has it;
Photographic hunk's tuft welts eloquently, degenerates art,  thins honest lash;
Psychotherapeutics’ reassessments behoove ma'am’s hemp op.
Pleasurable needs present a hot shot list under soft head, whiff sheet of moonless down. Shower. Stress disinterest.     Affect downy less rap.            How? She’s Dr. Hot Bath.

Thigh wanks to deter inner highness; whang conversationalist humps new merriments. Wee troll hat has his sane wolf, heartedly ate a fahrenheit pro tender fetishism hub.
Frown, he’s odd. Heartbreaking twohandedness coordinators hail rims’ brawn web fad.
Gee, minicomputers’ sore hole helps trash ink referrals.
Burglar hoe proofed estates think how representation whale minnow titteased in vee tint
ridge,
domesticating hell. Why? Hard gag feather dash red: our reinforcement oath.
Who'd frig Dr X? Counter revolutionist hetero, geneousness childishly high.             Gogh, whig her.

She buds down earthquake’s sea grotto solo, rectally bittersweet twofer fawn nut nutritive core. Pop! End gluttony vow non tantra row.

Stand down. She won ashes. Alternative? C’mon, dab receptor coat, chef.

Huh? He pretendedly huddled underprivileged homotransplantation herb, eh.

Transcendentalists? They’ll scan mischief epics, rot Homer weightless, hunt competitors raw, fragment anus tofu hue...ow!

// written in 2011 and not published anywhere, if memory serves. thought i would share it today. i remember reading Leaves of Grass and being surprised by all the rah rah America stuff. There's a bookmark at the place where i stopped, p. 250 - it's a bookmark business card that says what type of person i am: bad apple - made for Gabe Foreman's A Complete Encyclopedia of Different Types of People (Coach House Books, 2011)

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