Walt Whitman is probably the most “American” poet — in all the best senses of the adjective. He is the human equivalent of a wilderness area — untamed, free, unashamed, vital. He sounds his barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world. Yes he does! He contains multitudes and speaks to us from more than a century ago as if he were in the room with us. Maybe he is.
Intro music “Brightside of the Sun,” by Basin and Range. Outro: “Green Grass,” by Cybelle.
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