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ARS POETIC-HER

Ed Baker


ARS POETIC HER 2013


portions here-in have appeared in Nigel Wood's Sunfish # 6 & #7 cover image and opening page have appeared in Lynn Brewer's CLITERATURE # 25


“Sometime you can kiss my pussy,” she said matter-of-factly and with-out hesitation to my weak-in-theknees thinking of staying of going into the juicy only punctuates what is wanted did She mean it and who is thinking that at my age I would not hesitate at any such replay of needs to make or do in any other's manifesto so to do obliquely she had just to open the back door as I unconditionally and without hesitation enter “OH... DON'T BOTHER... “YOU DON'T KNOW MY QUUANTUM PHYSICS “ OR

UNDERSTAND M E !”

any more than, say, one can understand two shifting hips' beckon She then proceeded to order Me about in a game of Round Robin and in this dampness the odor of Desire ….. took Me. So to bring Her into an adequate focus the loci of our mutual want I kissed Her and sped exactly, directly, into My own imagination ... entirely into the flowing wetness … the in Her now was just just-as-it-came: another resolution in a bit of lost-in-the-fuzzy beyond reason or Reason's Empty Set a mathamatique which rivals Pergatoria Gloria ?

There was just so much happy-mind in Her plume-perfect dress and in Her un-dress Her toes curled up into the dark room. The vision of this young girl the woman had become as She walked out of Her yellow dress suddenly over to where I was this absolute inter-penetration where not-knowing knowing is not same thing as knowing not knowing ! I tell You: I bent down immediately & plunged into the performance of My life : Ritual of the Mystery of the Mystery this, I tell you, an Holy Grail now makes all of every sense in the realm of realm of the sense


the words a Man & a Woman go into w/out shame or hesitation Thunder settles over images sprung into this time-zone Place and Space & Time and Temper can-not compete with this …. the Calculus as a Function ... where eventually the go is into no more than a small part of the whole expanding Epic is more MORE than is possible is possible in any single moment intertextuality can Know Besides, She smelled a bit musty the smell that I smelled …. Must and for some Reason I picked up on Her hot and quickly dipped my gold nib into (I swear ) the open bottle of Asian Black Ink and I was not the first to so do an entire book about this One ; into the red smudge must and do Her Body is in this poem and not by any accidental happenstance or in the Dragon's Blood chop as signature We were BOTH there and then and entered into various contrapuntal positions as if bodies in that context develop into its other's take as any presentation is given. The Act of writing what is is closest to what is ruined into what is written so It is just as It was is not a possibility & is predicated upon (you) Reader's best guess. “Do You think I'm pretty?” a writer sticks with his words' intent upon any consequential meaning that will follow tongue into words that rejects nothing nor the experimental of Its Ancient Knowledge worships what She mystifies in a prose form as Her becomes an Ours Poetics in proper position to kiss Her pudenda revealed and presented clean-shaven and the Horn has been reduced to a wimpier merely in Her being Essence and this long breath in Diagram THAT and sentence Me to this telling of what She re-vealed in Her modifiers' specificity went straight into nothing subordinate to what was Want or any other phrase or compound-complex clause that


requires that They do that always was any way through the Garden Gate swings both ways are considerations alternating between Lust & Greed She added “Give Me what I want.” It was never about Her It was about Me and getting this poem to BE and Who is caring is your guess as good as mine is private what is written and what has anything whatsoever to do with what happened anymore than this She could not get beyond Her offer which was (and still is) beyond the point and in consideration for the alternative mode of conducting this …. play within His imagining Her and that wet dress on the floor copulating with what and whom and how animals come with certainty into just what it is about the 10,000 Hers demanding: “Kiss Me! Kiss ...ME ! Damn You, you're just like all the others !” “And don't write Me anymore of Your stupid fucking poems!”

She.She.She.She.SHE.SHE.SH.SHE.SHE.she.she.She.She.She.She.S he.She.She.She.She.She.She.She./He


this line is unlike any other line so far collected cigar-store Indians' band rings to save and to buy the next election was enough to pop-gun break into war dance with Her laying in the center space with plenty of wantonness to Rule arises via these words and thoughts between all punctuate declaratives marks make machining s of an Her as just another possibility through Will and Reason & Wimsey out of any doubt in diagram-ing this sentence into a life-force plus forty were not necessarily needed when She is waiting there ….. just so to emphasize this that Night demands a visible and adequate doing Her “you can” as She overestimated his ability or need at Seventy to take such care and in Her kiss slash-and-burn the lengthened differentiation is separately She/He as the Mythos prescribes She give then take Him into explosion of metaphors of any Poooof that drags Him on This blown-language taken through the opened window into the clean clear cool outside She is a breath of fresh air less any visualization does anything otherwise insist upon that She prepares Her table before He eats or kisses The Holy Grail for an entire night day-light strikes explicit meaning and then They sleep that much more for sure unknown undone in dreams is made all petrographical and in particulate order/progression explicit and illicit and unless She is under any Religious tutelage & married That much for sure is (known) that when Her new husband comes home She will say to him : “I'm pregnant. Again!”


every thing in her tone and temper what was said and done juxtaposed she was that that was shown in my reveries. Imagine that She dropped out of a wet dress and sauntered over to Him that was there then moved in to play Her like a fiddle He round about midnight a tap at Her door tap tap tap tap heard Her brother say “I know you're in there. You promised to never do that again!” tap tap tap tap We laid there motionless in the dark and utter silence cold from her wet body dripping into it s continuation as the foot-stepsin-the-hall receded into the dream as yet to not beg for what She had yet to give or He to have taken with his thumb stuck in He picked Her up and slammed Her down and She shattered into 10,000 pieces of a single Psalm for Her want was His demand in every way and through every-otheryesterday that He could re:call He paused and in the silence that was just there so that She left Him alone to take some notes down to the cellar from whence He returned carrying a rather large, musty folio of His original poems and sketches laid them at her feet to gift to Her what He had ….. hoped …. would be sufficient She took page after page after page and laid on the bed reading every word ; and, far beyond the pages beyond the words Her gaze She had wanted all along what He could not re-gift anymore than that She & He could return to The Garden and in the clear crisp air …. fuck He had written down His bones and of a sudden bent down to see if She was also looking back into another [place] into a rush of kisses a series of kisses passed along these many lines to say and do beyond His or Her or Your Imagination There are many things twice-over in His


mind or around Him or in His studio or in His Journals large volumes of Things No lack of Material to draw down upon Her nor any lack of Words to Begin Again continuity is manifest what words are at the ready not unknown nor any unrecognizable Red Delicious bitten is first bite taken Her in She also took Him into Her Self a new genre invented words as phonemes are the Ticks upon which She is based and Her character becomes this Situate Fantasy; the stuff to go down on towards every other way to take her

He returns w firewood to find the note that She had left on the floor just where They had fucked and lingered on the stove the scent of fresh-brewed coffee only even his loose change gone Her husband still gone Her yellow dress gone Daughter & Son

gone

He gazed out and what is now needed has also gone into the distances; into this Journal into a Mind's “Travel Diary� Thirty-six stations along the way He can not recall the image of a single One nor the


recurrent line that pissed Her off Yet She left a note and every -other yesterday that SHE remembered to identify what of to write this additional book while mirror is unfocused and echos an Eros in His eyes is Her reflection Garden Weeds Also Need Attention

Sun Young Song is She through this entire debauchee taken was by Her hand His hand through and definition of “eremite� ;care is never taken when preparations are skipped ;take is a must-that is to be / when / She is ready ;full moon by ANY name is still a silent Rock it s everywhere that is not to be separate from any other AHHHHHHHH ! everyday noodles white bowl


open door from cellar where for thirty years He had been re:deranging himself in order to begin a-fresh with unfettered possibilities in Her cellar His notes and boned motes now came flowing towards gifting that She took & (now) takes between her right hand jerking and Her moist lips … lipping His want & words suddenly she brought to him the an old story the now news of the evening prim: Bird Goddess tiny-tawny breasts fingers in and movement pressing into this narrative pressing into the soft-moist under in the night tousling hair on my desk and words to use all ness subverts meaning that I am here now and your become this ;the last time that I spoke to you you told me that you would kill yourself but what to do with your two children: “I'm doing the best that I can” through good eye wrong ear hard on hearing what it wants to hearing what was want to provoke your getting money for sex “You needn't beg for want of giving,” he replied as if to tell and do as what gets us from there to here and from here to a farther there bend and away deep-down into seen-through dress back-lit chance of


charm is all this derangement draws and writes down your every word as nothing less or hidden from the Dear Reader thinking push is tongue into mouth into cut between legs & twisted …. words summer's night and full the moon behind a cloud yet shining through opened door go requires all attention chance's taken towards “are you still angry at me or with me in bed you are beside your self “ always in the poem that you the clearing is “ the emptiness that makes you angry” words clearing throats escape here and there bird on one leg behind head fell beyond the steamy cut through


an old branch duck is under tilting head first. this. way. fingers, hands, hips hair, twist is body before me reaching one syllable at a time out of letters taken seriously to change she had only to put her hair back the way it had been

I can see into your room into the back-lit summer dress pours shadow that little is changed or hidden the shades drawn as they were they are downing the hours taken in by the dark away in the corner you up-anddown the street just there horns blow a cab and a garbage truck collide the litter everywhere a rush of jewels that sparkle in your eyes lids spiked open legs ride Pony's prance then gallop is ridden full moon through the air into daylight police siren comes then the revolving lights just so he can say “Hands up!” never mind the half closed eyes or opened mouth-speak: “what shall I wear to the party ? Something that clings ?”


Not that. Wear the see through yellow dress that reveals the woman the girl is now mounted whips with long black hair hanging down brushes into perfect fit into the night Korea jumped “I don't remember writing that or saying that I probably would,” she said , “but I probably mostly did.” To which I replied : “Probably is mostly life will you ? “ ...so, spin around and into Del Sasser watch the sound j u m p y “1,000

SHAPES OF A FEMALE “

here & there view resides in it s own frame of soldiers of fortune continuously taking her the first to have her through that night the others the others who also came and went into her that first time entirely far-away mountains distances bec ame her maybe you can take a nice photo of your self and send it to me I will do a water-color and shoot at it raw even that side-wise glance seen through window made the point that he had been on his way to her house a couple of times now found all of this just as you see it took him only as far down into the swing just below her hips in all directions

simultaneously

morning dove coos into that then yet now stares into what her life had been she a convergence towards wet from her bath stepping out “coo-coo coo-coo”


out from rocks around Pefcos a young girl steps a pretty girl is in the want to trade – pretty girl follow her home take down with the look in through her eyes her mouth follow into

a country that lies between pope and emperor black doves coo and play in her hair fingers in her hair her hair her hair she sat alone in wait with a drink on the table and all around me was heat and all around her hotsummerdress with that aegean smells coming through as she walked towards me seen through with a yellow dress seen through her body taught in 1969 old man turns to watch the girl the woman had become go down to the river was she who said or is now my I however re called wassaidthatSheunderstoodthisthatintoHerhardonandhandsfingeringhair wetdowndrippinglustspokesoftlyhotbreathingwordsonpagenotsamethin gasprettyAsianGirlonwhite-sheetedbedfullmoonfully behindHerthisheadpogingthroughtheopenedwindowbatsnightandHeru ponthesofttawnfleshtilmorningcame wemovedfromrocktorockfromrocktofartherrocksandfacturedmoments full moon through upon her falling quick in the turning to meet risen fills the low Pleiades’s and better days long time since the swing to break lock-latch bolt prance had been into


the must tear down destroy even the ruins now notes in books the cellar all of these she unbuttoned her blouse dropped out of everything fell to the floor this had never been any unified string theory of long legs wrapping 'round all complications with or without any dilemma regarding gasoline explodes with match the fumes breathed in can intimidate “Let's not do anything stupid.” what goes on behind/beyond symbols everything desired experience the body that is on the fear that you are: an order to command beyond this or any other point: his reach was into the folds of her ... Korea is beyond syntax beyond any context nor words on page can pin her down more-so in Ashton a foreign country fingers into her sound of a free-wheeling innocent (read virgin) whether or not they are or are not “musical” what is required is met as an harmony that requires no-thing seen said done imagined as one way into get into Her is the idea of that something is in the slender doubt in vocals of an all inclusive (do not exclude or ignore making thing based on boundaries / structure / predictability THAT will surely “get” Her expression is what circumferential possibility's division of Her Whole into parts words preceded what happens next is


not as important as what happens after the others next defile her mud-line horses' hair binds past use for chinking between legs' forced into cracks rough-hewn logs light penetrates she dropped her summer dress on the floor as he watched towards her bed patina the oak logs are Her flesh is color of walls the walls of the house were directly in front of him so close that he could finger in he saw into it went straight into gold flowers showed that the map is laid out on her mattress laid out just so to measure the landscape: 23 paces due East 74 paces due West 24.3 hectares into the past a civil war moved along the Westminster Road just as She drove up and parked Her yellow Bug I had finished my Gypsy dance grabbed Her and my wallet we went to town I tell you we went to The Hotel Hanover


situated on the far corner of the square in the center of the town me and this pretty girl across the room that we had left the fire crackled the wood-glare warmed everything went watching in : return He in His hands held six volumes of his Cellar Journals smiled went straight into Her long black hair “My God you have beautiful hair” hanging into Her demands gone yellow into the night April begins this journey into head-strong tongue wags same said such is necessary to replay it s own that which is that it had entered into a conjunction that He used again in Her eyes into long-black- hair Tumbling Mind is always thinking thinking thinking necessary : “all you think about is sex” comes and goes just beyond what He had been in his want it s own particularity is Rule is Law is to Abide in these notes written in solitude presumptuous ploddings on has taken Us farther outside of Ourselves into purple fields majesty to roam and rage against the dawning coming into Her to eat what is just in the simplicity of it s perfectly correctly doing talk to the girl-the-woman was is right directly in front of Him and jerk to happy high spirited bucked beyond beside any other desire high what is so silly about

“do what you want with me”

the very worst thing was Her last letter She suddenly up and married in person Her needs having been met …. exposed His mind in journals hidden in His cellar much less awake writes to be with Her in that yellow wet summer dress muddy to the touch through deeply peeked titties as any other predetermined judgment knocking on His door is always open “do you think we'll go to war with North Korea?”


The tedious journey had over-taken him am setting aside my pen & paper & journals instead he had gone to the diner to talk to the girl who would become the next one within deep down mother wildly in closed eyes swims into what he had been hard into the sound the waves the mind full of needs that her the eyes the hands everywhere the demands float is towards the want of that certain hurry ;top slope down flows molten ;red-tipped emblematic of dance astride punctualities overtaken hips' risings


broke from rock pushed into orb far out far out from land moon full above the high & the low sounds that that blue aegean sea mimicked the high & the low sounds that she had made that he had followed far out to sea the had traveled without waiting without hesitation far out from any measure in the movement of the waves coming in the walls of the city surrounded their sounds it was in that condition to fill with ancient sounds the space between the silences /the earth was the heart was what the mind made to get a measure of the as she had always been to him the figure of the woman the girl to take and bed down in possibilities


larger than the meaning that her sex had been she opened had been broken apart had been broken into the meaning of the newness that in the beginning was done in by a long line of feeble 'lovers' was only the beginning was when her bleeding was lost sight of that she had suddenly gone into her own nightmares into a cave in the mountain above the city with her eyes wide opened they pinned her down pinned her down she closed her eyes as they ruined her she had told him this

because of the decline in the price of sex sligo creek was split blown in through the opened window reveal had been what into the cave above the city the town


the last to go into her an old man could plainly see red-stained legs far beyond her gaze

from where he had stood he had seen her naked in as clear as any photograph is clear not an imperfection anywhere on her body that she had used to get her way she thought to close the places resolve any less a fiction to know a woman is not the same thing as going into the vision of any other's hell on your own: is dangerous only the motions in her being taken had been real


far beyond the arc of any star bright that struggles in from her vantage knows what they had been they who came into drunk & late took her & some other girls into caves split as the creek is cut-through with hard cocks is game the only recognition in laughter is indefference Her black eyes went into the wild of her gone: her cunt arched across the sky

full moon clearly standing nude in the open

the moon came through her as winter “is that all?,�


more into what to do with her own body to be that explicit in the coming demands from this woman in the open space with her summer dress hips gone into words gestures translated

what if she warm-blooded as she had been she had discovered that her center had no circumference where every other meaning was a fall into her

heroically heaving breasts bid him on her mouth a little open

they had gone late and drunk-as-hell crossed the stream, the lake , the hill gone incredible demands want had been “I will put my hair down the way you liked it�


Ars poetic her 13 6x9  

erotica poetry surreal poetry concrete poetry impressionism expressionism

Ars poetic her 13 6x9  

erotica poetry surreal poetry concrete poetry impressionism expressionism

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