Blackout Poetry · May 7, 2022

A blackout poem made from a page of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Words are crossed out in white out and the remaining words are circled. The page is framed by black tape. An abstract black and white drawing is at the bottom of the page.

By anonymous

Sleep

my vision,
Stepping noiselessly
stopping,
open eyes wander
confused, lost
gazing,
solemn they look
the little children in their cradles.
wretched features of corpses,
faces of drunkards,
sick-gray faces of gash’d bodies
insane in their idiots,
merging from gates
pervades them
The married calm in their bed,
the hip on the hip sleep lovingly
mother sleeps carefully
blind sleep, dumb sleep,
sleep well in the prison
murder’d sleep