Dear Seb: Finding your site, I found myself experiencing my new level, so I thought, “Hmmmm…..What can I give him in return?” Do you know the great American poet Walt Whitman? In a poem he describes a man’s body as “Plumb in the uprights and braced in the beam,” which is good for long-lived barns and just the way I like men, body and soul! Whitman wrote: “Love builds its Mansions in the place of excrement.” Cool huh? Whitman had a bad experience when he was a young schoolteacher in Southold, Long Island (I live nearby in Southampton Long Island.) He was tarred and feathered and “riden out of town on a rail” History does not record why, but I think we know. Maybe his later creative flowering was activated by the early negative treatment. To remain he had to create beauty. So, to change the subject, I’ll begin to plan a trip to London, which will involve a number of sessions with you, beginning at the very beginning and proceeding in a rational course of action and unfoldment, hopefully concluding with a deep butt fucking by the end of the week! Can you do Oklahoma Middle-School Football Coach Slash Muscular-Christian Bare-Bottom OTK Redemptive Paddling in addition? Sexually, I’m deeply impregnated with American culture. However, maybe some time with an English lorrie driver or guardsman would have me saying “You want my arse, bloke?” in a nanosecond. In any case, my best to you Steven

Oh me! Oh 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?


That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

2 thoughts on “Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (1892)

  1. Buttfucking would be rare in Whitman’s day. In the 19th century, mutual masturbation (commonlY called “a chaw for a chaw”) was the male sex act. As the gay community separated from other men, oral sex replaced masturbation, while straight men kept masturbating together. Straight men might also be sucked, but not suck. Anal became the gay sex act in the 70s.

    All of this for the assumption that a defining sex act is necessary.

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