Jesus, that's a long poem.

"the basket I asked for." "I beheld what I held".

"I shook at the touch / Of his fresh flesh, I rocked at the shock of his cock"

If I were Auden, I'd deny authorship too.

I post something that filthy and all I get are complaints?

You can't win.

Filthy? Sure, some of the rhymes are jangly, and I don't believe the two ever actually exchanged names, but there didn't seem to be anything particularly dirty about what-all was going on there.

What would it take for you to call it dirty, JM?

Anonymous rimming: Not dirty enough for Jackmormon.

We've got your number, Missy.

Does the exchange of names make it less filthy? Surely you could write an absolutely obscene account of warm, loving, committed marital sex -- the sort of sex that the Pope would approve of -- but still obscene.

6.--Guilt? Shame? Coercion? They just seemed like they were having a lovely time.

Lovely times can be dirty, Jack.

Agreed with JM: it's kind of sweet. It reads a bit like a ditty, so a little funny in its self-conscious over-the-topness, but not filthy.

You're all forgetting the wisdom of Woody Allen:

"Do you believe sex is dirty?"

"When done properly."

The swings between quality verse and Dr. Seuss Writes Hop on Cock are sure vertiginous.

I think my prurience-meter is off-kilter with society's.

Hop on Cock! Hop, Cock, Hop! Cock is Rock, Sock on Cock!

And then with a violent jerk began to expand.

Really half a tick off from becoming "A Visit from St. Nicholas."

And then with a jerk began to expand

We sprang from our bed to see what was at hand.

The filthiness lies not in what they do but in how it's described.

It may not be filthiness, but the idea that a heartbeat could move an erect cock is at least hilarious.

All of that labored poesy and then no facial at the end? Bah. (But I guess Auden is free from Ogged's "designed to appeal visually to masturbating men " and therefore the conventions of pron which require a visible come* shot**.)

* This specific use might be one that actually is more correctly rendered as "cum shot".
** I am sure this "requirement" is a sop to the barely subsurface homosexual excitement experienced by "heterosexual" men watching M-F pron. Two (or 1.95) birds with one stone.

the barely subsurface homosexual excitement

This is a study only somewhat remembered from a Tuesday Times Science section, but supposedly men come harder and their sperm are more active while watching other men come.

19: This is a novel idea for you? Really?

22: I suppose I never looked that closely.

Sex is not dirty! Though sometimes it's smelly.

21: This is a study only somewhat remembered from a Tuesday Times Science section,

Dang! And here I thought there was some scientific support for my position.

I think that poem just made me gay.

When I got to the part where he said "tower of power" ...and I still thought it was hot...well, there I was, gay.

Yup, even after reading w-lfs-n's wining. I'm still gay over that poem.

Lizard, my wife is going to be really mad at you when she finds out you made me gay.

Don't listen to the whinging, LB, that poem rocks (cocks).

Hope your 1st day was excellent.

Oh, and Rob H-C, maybe it just made you bi and your wife won't be too mad.

I think I agree with JM--it's actually kind of a sweet poem.

Of course it is. I can't understand them making a big deal of it being `dirty'. Yeesh, are we 12 (to quote a recent comment)

I don't see why so many people are getting bent out of shape about this poem being described as "dirty" when all that means is that it's too sexually explicit to be published in the New York Times, which is obviously is.

A sad state of affairs, teo, but there you have it.

13 is true, but I ultimately agree with 11. Clearly Auden had a lot of fun writing the poem (as well as researching it, of course).

Even apart from the Seussicality of some of the rhymes, Auden could definitely have put more effort into making sure all the lines scanned.

34 is true, but give Auden a break for being distracted at the time.

Gross. Then again, this is the only poem about sex that has actually not left me nauseous. probably because it doesn't mention fluids.

It's nice, but I'm glad to see that Chiasson pointed back to the 17th century for proper dirty poetry.

Okay, those last two are cuter than they are dirty, but I love them.

Oh! And this one has a pretty pearl necklace in it.

I love this poem, and Auden on the whole, unapologetically. Thanks for the elevation, LB.

Yup, even after reading w-lfs-n's wining. I'm still gay over that poem.

At least wait until we get to the dining portion of the evening, rob.

39: Thanks for the elevation

Hott!

But I find the poem in 38 much better. Erectile dysfunction, seriously underrepresented in first person literature. (Although this one follows the standard pattern of contrasting a single instance against a lifetime of otherwise massively rampant tumescence.)

JM didn't even read the poem. Maybe there isn't an exchange of names, but: "Profession: mechanic. Name: Bud. Age: twenty-four."

i liked this better
http://www.thebeckoning.com/poetry/auden/auden5.html

Erectile dysfunction, seriously underrepresented in first person literature.

POEM: Erectile dysfunction is common with long distance cycling
POEM: Dietary supplements for erectile dysfunction may contain sildenafil or tadalafil

POEM=Patient-Oriented Evidence that Matters

Jesus, how prosaic can you get, medical people?

"A royal column, ineffably solemn and wise."

A wonderful phrase, and so ripe for appropriation and repurposing. Makes me want to write a letter, for instance, to the editor of the L.A. Times, in which I praise Jonah Goldberg as being "a royal columnist, ineffably solemn and wise."

Makes me want to write a letter, for instance, to the editor of the L.A. Times, in which I praise Jonah Goldberg as being "a royal columnist, ineffably solemn and wise.

Someone should so do this. Kristol too.

I just read that aloud in bed and got very solemly and wisely laid.

(Now I'm off to watch an episode of -- wait for it -- "Deadwood".)

||

One of my roommates just went to vom town in this style of trash can.

Hooray, Saint Pat.

|>

49: Presumably said roommate is going to be responsible for cleaning said trash can.

I just handed him a bottle of bathroom cleaner and some paper towels. He was rather embarrassed. And drunk.

You might want to wait until he sobers up, actually. Unless it's a really terrible mess.

It's in his bedroom, so immediate clean-up is warranted for sleeping's sake. His wife called me to help and said she wasn't going to clean it up. I figured something should be done tonight. He's not really a drinker, so it's getting filed under "annoyingly amusing" since, after all, everyone's okay.

As a visiting friend told me today, I am "living the dream" indeed.

God, I love not having roommates.

$270/month, buckaroo! Vom: optional.

optional s/b occasional. I should go to bed.

I'm quite willing to pay the (substantial) premium to not have to deal with all that.

I think it is fabulous that the new New York Governor and his wife both admitted to having affairs.

I think it is fabulous that the new New York Governor and his wife both admitted to having affairs.

The divorce lawyer jokes must have gotten pretty stale that no one has taken a crack at *that*.

I don't want to see it, but I am nonetheless curious what the scene Stanley describes in 49 actually looks like. It makes me think, terribly, of waffle irons, or deep frying sausage gravy.

Thanks for the fun, sexy poem, LB. I love Auden.

A friend of mine informs me that this is one of Samuel Delany's favorite poems. Sex is about what bodies do! Yay!

I love Auden, and have read his Collected Works in its entirety, but this poem feels to me like he wasn't trying very hard.

Oh, it definitely sounds tossed-off. But there are some nice turns of phrase, and it's light and playful. No "New Year's Letter," but who wants a sex poem that's that heavy?

exactly, AWBear. this is as disgusting and unbearable as the works of Samuel Delany.

Homophobe.

Wait, what? This poem's gay? How can you tell?

This poem's gay? How can you tell?

Just look how well-dressed it is, Tweety.

ALL POMES ARE GAY.

68: I figured it was metroprosodic.

Why do all these poems keep sucking my cock?

A friend of mine informs me that this is one of Samuel Delany's favorite poems.

Yay. Indeed, not actually so surprising.

The poem isn't gay Sifu, but (see 26) it may well have made you gay.

Had to happen sooner or later.

I dunno, Bave, but in your shoes I'd be wary of paper cuts.

Sex is about what bodies do! Yay!

A statement with uncomfortable resonances for those who have read the introduction to The Face of Battle.

in your shoes

I don't think you're doing it right, soup.

69: Well pomes are in fact a type of fruit...

The mesocarp is usually fleshy, and the endocarp forms a leathery case around the seed.

I wonder if Hart Crane left us any unpublished poems about blowing sailors on the docks?

Speaking of which, this is a terrific discussion by Delany of Crane and his New York; and listening to his evisceration of Paul Mariani's Crane biography convinces me that what we need right now is for Delany to write his own biography of Crane. Maybe we could get Farber on this.

Man, that poem is pretty bad, and Auden actually wusses out when it comes to rimming, which he doesn't really describe at all. FAIL.

Wasn't Auden the one who would ask people to give him a topic and form, and would dash off a poem on the spot? Sounds like this was one of those.

Oh come on, Ogged. "Forceful torso" is great.

That'll teach me to attack the gayocracy. There were a few nice turns of phrase.

The internal rhymes are clever.

I opened a gap in the flap. I went in there.
I sought for a slit in the gripper shorts that had charge
Of the basket I asked for. I came to warm flesh then to hair.
I went on. I found what I hoped. I groped. It was large.

I mean, it's not one of his all-time greats but he's having fun and that's what counts.

he's having fun and that's what counts

Let's just pretend this thread never happened.

Is that what you say to all your tricks?

You know that doesn't really work with "thread." Did you just wake up? Are you high? Is an old English guy rimming you right now?

Really, 13 should have ended the thread. I swing between admiration of redfoxtailshrub and annoyance that I didn't think of it first, and followed it by "I would not, could not, touch his cock." Not in a box! Not with our cocks!

There's Second Life hookers, I don't see why there can't be comment thread hookers.

88: Sounds like a case for TJ Hooker.

My favorite Dr. Seuss story (modified slightly):

Go, Cock. Go!
Copyright 1961 P.D. Eastman
Cock.

Big cock.
Little cock.

Big cocks and little cocks.
Black and white cocks.

"Hello!"
"Hello!"
"Do you like my hat?"
"I do not."
"Good-by!"
"Good-by!"

One little cock going in.
Three big cocks going out.

A red cock on a blue tree.
A blue cock on a red tree.
A green cock on a yellow tree.

Some big cocks and some little cocks
going around in cars.
A cock out of a car.

Two big cocks going up.
One little cock going down.

The green cock is up.
The yellow cock is down.
The blue cock is in.
The red cock is out.

One cock up on a house.
Three cocks down in the water.

A green cock over a tree.
A yellow cock under a tree.

Two cocks
in a house
on a boat
in the water.
A cock over the water.
A cock under the water.

"Hello again."
"Hello again."
"Do you like my hat?"
"I do not like it."
"Good-by again."
"Good-by."

The cocks are all going
around, and around, and around.
"Go around again!"

The sun is up.
The sun is yellow.
The yellow sun is over the house.
"It is hot out here in the sun."
"It is not hot here under the house."

Now it is night.
Three cocks
at a party
on a boat
at night.

Cocks at work.
Work, cocks, work!
Cocks at play.
"Play, cocks, play!"

"Hello again."
"Hello."
"Do you like my hat?"
"I do not like that hat."
"Good-by again."
"Good-by!"

Cocks in cars again.
Going away.
Going away fast.

Look at those cocks go.
Go, cocks. Go!

"Stop, cocks. Stop!
The light is red now."

"Go, cocks. Go!
The light is green now."

Two cocks at play.
At play up on top.
"Go down, cocks.
Do not play up there.
Go down."

Now it is night.
Night is not a time for play.
It is time for sleep.
The cocks go to sleep.
They will sleep all night.

Now it is day.
The sun is up.
Now is the time for all cocks to get up.
"Get up!"
It is day.
Time to get going.
Go, cocks. Go!

There they go.
Look at those cocks go!
Why are they going so fast in those cars?
What are they going to do?
Where are those cocks going?

Look where they are going.
They are all going to that
big tree over there.

Now the cars stop.
Now all the cocks get out.
And now look where those cocks are going!
To the tree! To the tree!

Up the tree!
Up the tree!
Up they go to the top of the tree.
Why?
Will they work there?
Will they play there?
What is up there on top of that tree?

A cock party!
A big cock party!
Big cocks, little cocks,
red cocks, blue cocks,
yellow cocks, green cocks,
black cocks, and white cocks
are all at a cock party!
What a cock party!

"Hello again.
And now do you like my hat?"

"I do.
What a hat!
I like it!
I like that party hat!"

"Good-by!"
"Good-by."

What are his all-time greats?

"One Fish Two Fish" is pretty great, and so is "September 1, 1939," but these are the very generic bests-of.