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You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare, And any thing.
My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls, coming naked to me at night, slot spel på facebook android gratis nedladdning Crying by day, Ahoy!Only three guns are in use, One is directed by the captain himself against the enemy's main-mast, Two well serv'd with grape and canister silence his musketry and clear his decks.The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray.Man kanske skulle ta och döpa dem till Bullens dag, och varje torsdag inta en rejäl portion pilsnerkorv.Are you the President?Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself?Long I was hugg'd close-long and long.I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around.
Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine.
From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you!(This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door.Bra att känna till: Då har Shangri-La-bonusar även kommit till Folkeautomaten.Firm masculine colter it shall be you!The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.