The Language of Making Love
So, since it's a holiday weekend and I'm feeling lazy, in lieu of a full column, here are some poems to get your blood running again after the turkey induced stupor of Thanksgiving dinner (presented primarily as links to avoid any issues with copyright). Feel free to add further suggested reading in the comments/
She being brand new
by e e cummings
Sonnet II from Second April
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
by C. P. Cavafy
by May Swenson
n w (click number 4 and the top of the page, halfway down)
by e e no-seriously-sex-was-dude's-favorite-topic cummings
by Ho Xuan Huong
Are you seventeen or eighteen?
Let me cherish you by all means.
Thin or thick you display a triangle, and
Large or small I hold you with one hand.
The more it is hot the fresher you will submit,
Not enough love at night, daytime will make it.
Your cheeks are rose pink and give you grace,
Lords and kings love you because of your face.
Like a sweet-apple
on the tip
of the topmost branch.
Forgotten by pickers.
they couldn't reach it.
(and honorable mention to Ruth Herschberger's "In Paneled Rooms," which sadly I can't find online anywhere, and I very much doubt it's public domain, so you'll have to find that one on your own.)