April is National Poetry Month and who outside of lonely little Emily Dickinson’s lonely little house was ever a greater American poet that Mr. Whitman, who got out of the house a lot just observing and documenting America in his prime, then holed up in a dusty little man cave in New Jersey in his old age.
What a long, strange trip his life was. Click here for more on that.
“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”
-Walt Whitman in “Leaves of Grass”
OK, I contradict myself (With His Greatness Mr. Walt)
April 14, 2013 by Rev. Paul McKay
Jitterbugging for Jesus 
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