Walt Whitman’s ambitions
were so large & ferocious
they filled an entire Kosmos!
Mine is a smaller gnosis—
a microscopic intuition,
a ghost almost imperceptible.
A poem that goes bump in the night.
My tiny poltergeist
of the philanthropic transaction:
Just watch me disappear
out of sight with satisfaction.
I am infinitesimal.
I contain so many subtractions.
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