the ghost of frank o’hara

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The ghost of Frank O’Hara leaves early

huge with desire. He sees through you, ogles

your ass while on the Metro; this fleshy

world! It’s what the living do that dazzles!

Only in poetry are ghosts obsessed

about panties. In novels it is briefs.

Plays call for jockeys. Textbooks might suggest

underwear. This language, ghosts claim, motifs

about buttocks and thongs. “We died before

thongs!” If you see a ghost gaping at you

in the changing room, say: “Bad Ghost!” I’m sure

it’s tough being behind the times, tattoos

and rings and whatnot being in right now

except for Frank who is always hip somehow.

sister vagabond

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Who made this big O? Who milked all this cream
then got off? Which shaman brought the secret
of the orgasm back? Who brought the dream
of how to speak to the gods home? Read smut,
those hoarse orgasmic screams make this worship
look like child’s play. But I’ve been down on you
all night and you’ve yet to fling yourself back-
forth in the tall duffled grass. Sure, I knew
that not all prayers are heard. Between loadstones
and ghost loads both point to something beyond
grasp, but only one causes you to touch
the true divine. After gushing cum moans,
return and tell me, sister vagabond,
about what you once laughed off as nonsense.

onibaba of smoke

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onibaba of mist

an onibaba made up of smoke …

If you ever get the chance to watch the 1964 horror film, Onibaba (鬼婆, Demon Hag and it’s free on Youtube), written and directed by Kaneto Shindo, you really should. The movie is set during the Warring States era in Japanese history. Nobuko Otowa and Jitsuko Yoshimura play two women who kill samurai and steal what little they have. It is one of the great erotic-horror classics of the 1960s.

ain’t i a woman?

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truth

Sojourner Truth (1797-1883): Ain’t I A Woman? delivered in 1851 at the Women’s Convention, Akron, Ohio

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man – when I could get it – and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman? …

Then that little man in black over there, he says women can’t have as much rights as men, ’cause Christ wasn’t a woman! Where did your Christ come from? I said, where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with him …

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again!