Tropico Testo

Testo Tropico

I sing the Body electric;
The armies of those I love engirt me, and I engirt them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
(Man you've got to be crazy!)
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul

Womanhood, and all that is woman - and the man that comes from woman
The womb, the tits, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and rising
The voice, articulation
Language
Whispering, shouting aloud
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep
Walking, swimming, poise on the hips
Leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening
The continual changes of the flex of the mouth
And around the eyes
The skin, the sun-burnt shade, freckles, hair
The curious sympathy one feels, when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body
The circling rivers, the breath, and breathing it in and out
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees
The thin red jellies within you or within me - the bones and the marrow in the bones
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say, these are not the parts and poems of the Body only, but of the Soul
O I say now these are the Soul!