Beatrix Potter, on the stout side, dressed
“in tweeds thick enough to stop a bullet”
woven from the wool of your own sheep,
looking back across those green fields in
your old age you said, If I had been
caught young enough I could have become
anything. I salute what you became
and you, Louisa May, on record claiming

I was born with a boy’s spirit under my bib
and tucker, working to keep the clan afloat
that Bronson Alcott dreamily left drift,
inventions on a tribe, book after book.
Eight Cousins was my favourite, orphaned Rose
saved from invalidism by Uncle Alec…

and you, Helen Nearing, almost ninety, kneeling
to dig potatoes for a guest’s lunch, confessing
I was twenty-six before I planted so much
as a radish. Oh, I was lily-handed,
square-knuckled, liver-spotted, laying up
the house you built with Scott stone by stone,
tending the sugarbush, the raised-bed garden,

I salute you all, I take you with me wherever
I go to fire me with your fevers.

Maxine Kumin

Public Announcement

July 14, 2019

Good Question

July 14, 2019

opens the pleasure box

July 14, 2019

Eating the peach is a meditation. Your mind empties of all the must dos and should have dones. You are pure being. Your lover’s tongue is the key that turns the lock that opens the pleasure box. Life has few perfect moments; moments of cunnilingus score the highest on the sex blissometer.

Chloe Thurlow
Katie in Love

all worked up

July 14, 2019

But I think getting a girl all worked up is the same thing as doing the other thing, and then I was thinking, there has to be a first time and it was important to me that it would be the real thing, and I was in love with him, with my head, my mouth, and further down.

Irmgard Keun
The Artificial Silk Girl
Trans. Kathie von Ankum

compulsiveness

July 14, 2019

I’ve often said “poetry saved my life” and I mean it. I was a driven man for most of my life, and still am to some extent, and part of that compulsiveness has been a kind of graphomania, where if I didn’t write on any particular day I would start to feel like a junkie withdrawing from his drug of choice, really really bad.

Michael Lally
Interview with Burt Kimmelman in 2011

Containing two of your five a day!

Sunday mornings in church I feel-up my neighbour during the sermon. He has his coat draped over his lap and I slip my hand beneath it, gently stroke his stiffening cock, tease it awhile, then unzip his trousers. Fumbling in his boxers, before feeling flesh on flesh. His cock is big – really big! Much longer and fatter than my husband’s, who never attends church and has no idea what I get up to with my neighbour, who has to hold his coat over it when we stand to sing a hymn. It looks a little funny. When we sit down again, I put his stiff cock away and zip him back up. He’s so frustrated he slips his own hand beneath the coat and jerks himself off. I don’t do this every Sunday. Maybe only one in four. But he always comes and sits beside me with his coat over his lap. It makes me feel kind of powerful.

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