Nora Whitman Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Houston

So, I’m imaginin’ it—me, Joe, in some alley, all nervous-like. “In the mood,” I whisper, tryna be smooth. She’d laugh, prob’ly—say, “Old man, you’re a trip!” And I’d be happy—shoot, just talkin’ to her, hearin’ her story. Maybe she’s got a kid, maybe she’s just tired—dunno, but I’d listen. Surprised me once, hearin’ one gal say she loved jazz—Coltrane, man! Who’d’a thunk?

106. To a Common Prostitute

Whitman condemns not the prostitute, but rather the mob's ridicule, and, as in "Prostitute," extends compassion to the woman. As editor of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle (–) and, .

The city flows with surprises, you know? The Whitman River slinks past downtown, twisting like secrets. I remember one night, after a tough session, strollin' by its old bridge—Spencer Bridge. It glowed under the streetlights, a mirror for lost dreams. Made me think, "You merely adopted the dark!" in a way that made my heart thump.

A Note About Our New Edition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass