--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "feste37" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> Gosh. All these c--t poems. Do female poets write in similar vein
about the
> male genitals? I rather doubt it. I've never seen such a poem.



Women aren't the ones with genes that make up pant like pigs at the
trough.





>
> --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "shempmcgurk" <shempmcgurk@>
> wrote:
> >
> > [From: the screenplay of "Women in love" by Larry Kramer based
upon
> > the novel by D. H. Lawrence]
> >
> >
> > The proper way to eat a fig in society...
> > is to split it in four...
> > holding it by the stump...
> > and open it...
> > so that it is a glittering, rosy, moist...
> > honeyed, heavy-petaled, four-petaled flower.
> > Then you throw away the skin...
> > after you have taken off the blossom
> > with your lips.
> > But the vulgar way...
> > is just to put your mouth to the crack...
> > and take out the flesh in one bite.
> > The fig is a very secretive fruit.
> > The ltalians vulgarly say
> > it stands for the female part, the fig fruit.
> > The fissure, the yoni...
> > the wonderful moist conductivity
> > towards the center...
> > involved, inturned....
> > One small way of access only,
> > and this close-curtained from the light.
> > Sap that smells strange on your fingers,
> > so that even goats won't taste it.
> > And when the fig has kept her secret
> > long enough...
> > so it explodes, and you see,
> > through the fissure, the scarlet.
> > And the fig is finished, the year is over.
> > That's how the fig dies...
> > showing her crimson
> > through the purple slit.
> > Like a wound...
> > the exposure of her secret on the open day.
> > Like a prostitute,
> > the bursten fig makes a show of her secret.
> >
>






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