"I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
  If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles."
           --Whitman, Song of Myself  (52.9-10)
      well, there I was, trudgin' along to
      class, yu' know, when all of a sudden
      I felt this squish, like I'd just
      stepped on some little soft-
      boned, uh, mouse or somethin',
      so I lifted up my left boot
      and slowly peeled off this weird, uh--
      well, sure enough, there he
      was, a little teeny Walt
      Whitman, flat as a
      leaf of grass, only a lot
                                    --tcg, 2/25/93

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