Dancing Naked in the Rain
Rainy Saturday afternoon thinking
about Whitman’s passage on animals
from ‘ Song of Myself’ and wondering
if I will ever write something as great
as that. I can hear several birds singing
joyously outside still living fully—
impervious to the rain. And all the
people now feeling unfulfilled hiding
in their homes, cars, shopping centers,
bars, random awnings, and cafe’s,
praying for sunshine and better times;
and I think about taking off all my
clothes and going outside to the wet
street and embracing the clouds and
heavens and all the earth and all of
life as those birds are—adaptable
and truly alive; free of ego, prejudice,
greed, history, religion, race, sex,
hope—another truly liberated creature
under the infinite sky; though I can’t:
I am not an animal, I am human—the
master species, and cannot live in
such a liberated way.
Brenton Booth lives in Sydney, Australia. Poetry and fiction of his has appeared in many publications, most recently Nerve Cowboy, Lummox, Modern Drunkard, Tree Killer Ink, Lit Up Magazine, Jellyfish Whispers and Dead Snakes.
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