PAUL HOSTOVSkY's Unlikely Loves : The Self
PAUL HOSTOVSKY : The Place of Literature
ANDREA FORBING : Modern Cunnilingus 101
POETRYREPAIRS v11.10:109
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The Self The Place of Literature Modern Cunnilingus 101  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

PAUL HOSTOVSkY's Unlikely Loves
The Self
It was a Buddhist lecture on the Self. There must have been fifty people in that room with the eight Vicissitudes, six Stages of Metta, four Noble Truths, three Kinds of Suffering and two ceiling fans spinning, spinning. She was sitting on the other side of the room, touching herself. I couldn't help staring. She was twisting a strand of her long hair round her fingers absent-mindedly, listening to the speaker, holding it up to her lips, sniffing it, tasting it, eyeing it doubtfully, then letting it go— She caressed her cheek, her forehead, the palm of her hand cupped her chin, fingers drumming. It was a pensive attitude lasting only a moment, for her hands grew restless again, and she started hugging herself, her left hand massaging her right shoulder, her right hand making excursions to the hip, belly, armpit where it moored itself with a thumb camped out on the small hillock of her left breast. I couldn't help wondering if she could feel my eyes on her body the way I could feel her hands on her body on mine. "Don't attach to anything as me or mine," the Buddhist speaker who was Jewish before he was Buddhist was saying, "because attachment is the second arrow." That's when I realized I had missed what the first arrow was. And then, as in a dream, I was trying to raise one of my hands lying in my lap like two dead birds, belly-up, to ask.
POETRYREPAIRS 11.10:109
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The Self The Place of Literature Modern Cunnilingus 101  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

PAUL HOSTOVSKY
The Place of Literature
Mr. Gordon was perhaps a little tipsy at the awards ceremony, perhaps a little scornful of the football coach's ode to yardage, the basketball coach's paeons to the MVPs, the music teacher's touting her flautist, the science teacher his scion of Einstein. So when Mr. Gordon got up to give the literary magazine award to me, he lurched a little drunkenly, swayed a little imperceptibly, steeply rocking in his moment on stage. Not to be outdone, he said in his opinion I was probably the greatest poet writing in English anywhere today— and a gasp went up from the high school auditorium, then murmurs of admiration and disbelief and mutiny spread through the audience as I rose to accept Mr. Gordon's slightly exaggerated handshake. Then he kissed me on the mouth, and raised my hand above my head in the manner of referees and prizefighters, grinning glaringly over at the football coach, and nodding trochaically.
POETRYREPAIRS 11.10: 109
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The Self The Place of Literature Modern Cunnilingus 101  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

ANDREA FORBING
Modern Cunnilingus 101
”This is NOT your father's Oldsmobile!”
I shouted as the unsuspecting head bobbed between my legs
"This is a new generation of Pussy".

Lick it like you're glad to be there! Suck it like you're sure I'll like it. Don't tell me archaic excuses about how you don't go down and I wont tell you why I don't swallow.
POETRYREPAIRS 11.10: 109
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The Self The Place of Literature Modern Cunnilingus 101
The Self TOP  The Self ©  PAUL HOSTOVSkY's Unlikely Loves  .comment1
The Place of Literature MID   109POEM2 ©  PAUL HOSTOVSKY,  .comment2
Modern Cunnilingus 101] BTM  Modern Cunnilingus 101 ©  ANDREA FORBING  . The third poem on the page is an editor-selected 'unlinkely love' appearing ten years ago on poetryrepairs v01.10
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