from Redactions of Grass
Whitman v J Edgar Hoover
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume...
...I believe in you my soul and Propaganda,
the other I am must REDACT itself to you,
And you Redact to the other.
Censor me on the grass, Lock on your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme Expunged From The Record
...only the lull, the hum of your Surveilling.
...how once we lay such a Blasphemous summer
How you settled your head athwart my Profanity and
Suspect upon me,
And Redacted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and
UNGODLY tongue to my Redacted heart,
And reach'd till you felt my WICKED WICKED
Swiftly censored me illegible
that pass all the GARBLED of the earth,
And I know that the word of God is Obfuscation
And I know that the spirit of God is Communist Threat,
And that all the men ever born SUSPECT, and the
And that a Redaction of the Redaction is Redacted
And limitless are leaves Expunged from the field,
...and mossy scabs of the Redacted, heap'd stones,
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with Redacted
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any
more than he.