Chapter_528

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I said I will shake myself out of my clothes,

I will roll up my sleeves, I will spit on my hands

(The hands that I kissed to the sun in the lands

To the north, to the east, to the south, and the west

Of every sea that is under the sun),

I will go to the land that the Gentile loathes

As he gathers his one small wife to his breast

And curses and loathes till his life is done.

I will go to the place of the Mormon: the place

Where the jackass rabbit is first in the race

And the woodchuck chatters in meaningless glee⁠—

Chatters and twists all his marvelous face⁠—

Twists it and chatters and looks like me.

And I rose in the strongest strength of my strength,

With my breast of brass and my hair’s full length,

And I shook myself out of my clothes in the land

Of the Mormons, and stood there and kissed my hand.