Song of Myself by Walt Whitman

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the places he takes us i mean one minute you're walking down a busy city street the next you're out on the prairie surrounded by buffalo it's like this whirlwind tour of america and even beyond america remember those lines my ties and ballasts leave me my elbows rest in sea gaps i skirt sierras my palms cover continents he's not bound by time or space he's storing through history across continents even into the cosmos