Poet, Nurse, Soldier

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Where is one abortive, mangy,
                cold ?
Starved of his masculine lustiness?
Without core
Loose in the knees, [inserted: and [illegible] grit and] without core? and grit?

Clutch fast to me, my my
ungrown brother,
And That I will infuse you
              with grit and jets of [illegible] new life
I [illegible] am not to be denied--I compel;
*I have stores plenty and
             to spare [illegible]
And of whatsoever I have I bestow
                fully with upon you
And first I bestow of my love.
*It is quite indifferent to me
         who you are are.


Where is one abortive, mangy, cold? ms

The Poet in these notebooks has his hand in a wider range of activities than we might have expected. We might note the emphasis here and in earlier passages on the importance of healing touch:

"Clutch fast to me, my
ungrown brother"

"I dilate you with tremendous

I buoy you up,
. . .
Not doubt, not hear, not
Death shall lay finger
upon you
God and I have embraced you, and
henceforth possess you
all to {my/our}selves"

"That I seize on the 'ghastly man'
. . .
Here is my arm
press your whole
weight upon me"