Walt Whitman picked up on Aboriginal Airwaves, emanating from Aboriginal graves, coextensive with a coil of wire, a don’t step on me, or a name.
Walt Whitman, in his dandy phase, stood looking, without gaze, went wishing, without green briar, and contemplated the name “United States of America” in comparison to “Mannahatta”,
Stood looking for good, for the affirmative, remembered the aborigines, to collect their rent, or their interest, or their masculinity spent. Or a toll, on a museum, or a temple of peace (the UN), surcease, waves whipping wildly, pay a penny please, black folk red folk down flow, down into an ease, of majesty, baddddassss mooooofoooo for a fire glow,
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men, no WWIII, but Mistletoe…
Spam of Human Affection 
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