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« on: February 12, 2008, 03:46:33 PM »
Hanging with a bunch of guys that are influenced by the the wittings of Robert Bly should be a giant red flag. I have nothing against gay men, poets or poets that are gay men. I just hate bad poets. IF the bad poets are fat and gay that just ices it completely. Walt Whitman was fat and gay and ugly, but a good poet.
O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the
struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
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