Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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NATIVE moments! when you come upon me—Ah you
are here now!

Give me now libidinous joys only!

Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life
coarse and rank!

To-day, I go consort with nature's darlings—to-night
too;

I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share
the midnight orgies of young men;

I dance with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers;

The echoes ring with our indecent calls;

I take for my love some prostitute—I pick out some low
person for my dearest friend,

He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—he shall be one
condemn'd by others for deeds done;

I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile myself
from my companions?

O you shunn'd persons! I at least do not shun you,

I come forthwith in your midst—I will be your poet,

I will be more to you than to any of the rest.

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