The one Whitman poem I remember at all in detail is his atypical O Captain, My Captain, about the death of Abraham Lincoln. O heart heart heart, O the bleeding drops of red, where on the deck my captain lies, fallen cold and dead." Very trite, but "I celebrate myself and sing myself" didn't exactly grab me.
There are probably 2 or 3 dozen Nash poems I remember fondly. My favorite is The Private Dining Room. "Miss Rafferty wore taffeta. The taffeta was lavender." Works best if you're familiar with Nash's accent (if not, cross a Maine accent with a Kennedy accent and you're pretty close), but a wonderful piece that moves from sober to drunk and then suddenly sobers up at the very end.
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There are probably 2 or 3 dozen Nash poems I remember fondly. My favorite is The Private Dining Room. "Miss Rafferty wore taffeta. The taffeta was lavender." Works best if you're familiar with Nash's accent (if not, cross a Maine accent with a Kennedy accent and you're pretty close), but a wonderful piece that moves from sober to drunk and then suddenly sobers up at the very end.