All We Know of Pleasure

All We Know of Pleasure: Poetic Erotica by Women was featured in the July 2019 issue of Cosmopolitan "All We Know of Pleasure: Poetic Erotica by Women is a breathtaking, eros driven, somatic poetic loveletter to women's bodies. So many of the poets who changed my life and writing live inside this book, and isn't that the truth of it, that poets give our desires and ecstasies back to us? I read it with my whole body, dripping with delight." Lidia Yuknavitch, author of The Book of Joan I absolutely loved these poems and devoured them in one night like a lover who wants to take her time but can't. They reminded me of what I first learned stealing Erica Jong off my mom's shelf when I was a teenager: sex is the force that drives the world, and women writing about it, with all that energy, particularity, sensuality, and humor, is the powerful force that cracks the world open. Jenna Blum, New York Times bestselling author of Those Who Save Us and The Lost Family "It's the verve of the lines in each of these poems that will electrify a reader. [. . .] Many of the poems play with the language of the erotic the same way lovers play, with a potent and beguiling imagination for both what's observed and experienced. [. . .] The anthology's poems tie love and passion together brilliantly, striking readers as much with their music and magic as their erotic energy." Apalachee Review

Autorentext
Enid Shomer, Anthology Editor Poet and fiction writer Enid Shomer is the author of four books of poetry and three of fiction, most recently the novel The Twelve Rooms of the Nile (Simon & Schuster, 2012). Her work has been collected in more than fifty anthologies and textbooks, including POETRY: A Harper Collins Pocket Anthology, Best American Poetry, and New Stories from the South. Two of her books, Stars at Noon (poetry) and Imaginary Men (short fiction), were the subject of feature interviews on NPR's Morning Edition and All Things Considered. In 2013, she received the Lifetime Achievement Award in Writing from the Florida Humanities Council.

Klappentext
A groundbreaking anthology of well-known female poets that broadens traditional notions of erotic poetry.

Leseprobe
The Knowing SHARON OLDS Afterwards, when we have slept, paradise- comaed and woken, we lie a long time looking at each other. I do not know what he sees, but I see eyes of surpassing tenderness and calm, a calm like the dignity of matter. I love the open ocean blue-grey-green of his iris, I love the curve of it against the white, that curve the sight of what has caused me to come, when he's quite still, deep inside me. I have never seen a curve like that, except the earth from outer space. I don't know where he got his kindness without self-regard, almost without self, and yet he chose one woman, instead of the others. By knowing him, I get to know the purity of the animal which mates for life. Sometimes he is slightly smiling, but mostly he just gazes at me gazing, his entire face lit. I love to see it change if I crythere is no worry, no pity, no graver radiance. If we are on our backs, side by side, with our faces turned fully to face each other, I can hear a tear from my lower eye hit the sheet, as if it is an early day on earth, and then the upper eye's tears braid and sluice down through the lower eyebrow like the invention of farmimg, irrigation, a non-nomadic people. I am so lucky that I can know him. This is the only way to know him. I am the only one who knows him. When I wake again, he is still looking at me, as if he is eternal. For an hour we wake and doze, and slowly I know that though we are sated, though we are hardly touching, this is the coming the other coming brought us to the edge of-we are entering, deeper and deeper, gaze by gaze, this place beyond the other places, beyond the body itself, we are making love


The Lovers DORIANNE LAUX
She is about to come. This time, they are sitting up, joined below the belly, feet cupped like sleek hands praying at the base of each other's spines. And when something lifts within her toward a light she's sure, once again, she can't bear, she opens her eyes and sees his face is turned away, one arm behind him, hands splayed palm down on the mattress, to brace himself so he can lever his hips, touch with the bright tip the innermost spot. And she finds she can't bear it not his beautiful neck, stretched and corded, not his hair fallen to one side like beach grass, not the curved wing of his ear, washed thin with daylight, deep pink of the inner body what she can't bear is that she can't see his face, not that she thinks this exactlyshe is rocking and breathingit's more her body's though, opening, as it is, into its own sheer truth. So that when her hand lifts of its own violation and slaps him, twice on the chest, on that pad of muscled flesh just above the nipple, slaps him twice, fast, like a nursing child trying to get a mother's attention, she's startled by the sound, though when he turns his face to hers which is what her body wants, his eyes pulled open, as if she had bitten she does reach out and bite him, on the shoulder, not hard, but with the power infants have over those who have borne them, tied as they are to the body, and so, tied to the pleasure, the exquisite pain of this world. And when she lifts her face he sees where she's gone, knows she can't speak, is traveling toward something essential, toward the core of her need, so he simply watches, steadily, with an animal calm as she arches and screams, watches the face that, if she could see it, she would never let him see.


The Encounter LOUISE GLUCK
You came to the side of the bed and sat staring at me. Then you kissed meI felt hot wax on my forehead. I wanted it to leave a mark: that's how I knew I loved you. Because I wanted to be burned, stamped, to have something in the end I drew the gown over my head; a red flush covered my face and shoulders. It will run its course, the course of fire, setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes. You lay beside me; your hand moved over my face as though you had felt it also you must have known, then, how I wanted you. We will always know that, you and I. The proof will be my body.

Inhalt
ALL WE KNOW OF PLEASURE: Poetic Erotica by Women Edited and with an Introduction by Enid Shomer I. THE DISCOVERY OF SEX Woman Reading, KATHLEEN FLENNIKEN In Ecstasy, ERIN BELIEU She Lays, MOLLY PEACOCK Practicing, MARIE HOWE Corinna, Deplaning In Pittsburgh, Looks For Tessera, Her Friend from Summer Camp, STEPHANIE BURT At Seventeen, ELIZABETH ALEXANDER First Sex, SHARON OLDS Stairway to Heaven, JILL BIALOSKY The Sisters of Sexual Treasure, SHARON OLDS Bar Napkin Sonnet #11, MOIRA EGAN Have You Ever Faked an Orgasm?, MOLLY PEACOCK Fast Gas, DORIANNE LAUX My Diamond Stud, ALICE …

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