"Sonnet"
The orgasm completely
Takes the woman out of her
Self in a wave of ecstasy
That spreads through all of her body
Her nervous, vascular and muscular
systems participate in the act
The muscles of the pelvis contract
And discharge a of plug mucus from the cervix
While the muscular sucking motion of the cervix
Faciliate the incoming of the semen
At the same time the constriction of the pelvic
Muscles prevents the loss of the semen. The discharge
Makes the acid vaginal lubricant
Alkaline, so as not to destroy the spermatozoa
-Tom Clark

"Hands"
The poem makes truth a little more disturbing
like a good bra, lifts it and holds it out
in both hands. (In some of the flashier stores
there's a model with the hands stiched on, in red or black.)

Lately the world you wed, for want of such hands,
sags in the bed beside you like a tired wife
for want of such hands, the face of the moon is bored,
the tree does not stretch and yearn, nor the groin tighten.

Devious or frank, in any case,
the poem is calculated to arose.
Lean back and let its hands play freely on you:
there comes a moment, lifted and aroused,
when the two of you are equally beautiful.
-Donald Finkel

"Nude Descending a Staircase"
Toe upon toe, a snowing flesh,
A gold of lemon, root and rind,
She sifts in sunlight down the stairs
With nothing on. Nor on her mind.

We spy beneath the banister
A constant thresh of thigh on thigh-
Her lips imprint the swinging air
That parts to let her parts go by.

One-woman waterfall, she wears
Her slow descent like a long cape
And pawing, on the final stair
Collects her motions into shape.
-X.J. Kennedy

"Summer Near the River"
I have carried my pillow to the windowsill
And try to sleep, with my damp arms crossed upon it
But no breeze stirs the tepid morning.
Only I stir....Come, tease me a little!
With such cold passion, so little teasing play,
How long can we endure our life together?

No use. I put on your long dressing-gown;
The untied soon trails over the dusty floor.
I kneel by the window, prop up your shaving mirror
And pluck my eyebrows.
I don't care if the robe slides open
Revealing a cresent of belly, a tan thigh.
I can accuse that non-existent breeze....

I am as monogamous as the North Star
But I don't want you to know it. You'd only take advantage.
While you are as fickle as spring sunlight.
All right, sleep! The cat means more to you than I.
I can rouse you, but then you stagger out.
I glimpse you from the window, striding towards the river.

When you return, reeking of fish and beer,
There is salt dew in your hair. Where have you been?
Your clothes weren't that wrinkled hours ago, when you
left.
You couldn't have loved someone else, after loving me!
I sulk and sigh, dawdling by the window.
Later, when you hold me in your arms,
It seems, for a moment, the river ceases flowing.
-Carolyn Kizer

"I Like My Body When It Is With Your"
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, and i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new
-E.E. Cummings

"If I Should Sleep With a Lady Called Death"
if i should sleep with a lady called Death
get another man with firmer lips
to take your new mouth in his teeth
(hips pumping pleasure into hips).

Seeing how the limp huddling string
of your smile over his body squirms
kissingly, i will bring you every spring
handfuls of little normal worms.

Dress deftly your flesh in stupid stuffs,
phrase the immense weapon of your hair,
understanding why his eye laughs,
i will bring you every year

something which is worth the whole
an inch of nothing for your soul.
-E.E. Cummings

"Loving"
When we loved
we didn't love right.

The mornings weren't funny
and we lost too much sleep.

I wish we could do it all again,
with clown hats on.
-Jane Stembridge

Dirty Limericks

There once was a man from Mantucket
Who liked to cum in a bucket
But when the bucket got filled
Boy did it spill!
Then the man had an empty cum bucket

There once was a boy from Manchester
Who in his first college semester
Met a man named Chuck
Who he fucked and fucked
With another young man named Fester

There once was a girl from New York
Who met a man that liked pork
He was a persistent molester
Who pestered and pestered
Till she finally had sex with the dork

There once was a man from Seattle
Who shaked his dick like a rattle
But the impotence he had
Made his masturbation bad
Because cumming was a constant battle