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If anyone reads these poems
they will think they know what kind of person I am. They will, I am certain,
imagine me as someone else, someone I can never be—simply because I have
written poems about you love, and about orgasms, and the poems about love
and orgasms will do that to them, and to me. They will make me appear to be
the kind of person who is in the position to write about our orgasms, who
knows all about these orgasms: their songs and dances and secret languages.
Some might go so far as to compare me to Noah Webster, claiming that just as
he compiled an entire opus of words, carefully defining and distinguishing each
one’s particular origin, pronunciation, spelling, and proper usage, so I have
collected an opus of orgasms. And I will have to admit, with surprise, that even
if I do not imagine myself to be that sort of person, even if I don’t consider
myself an author, much less an author of an opus of orgasms, even if I no
longer want to converse with orgasms, the orgasms continue to seek me out, as
orgasms will, as if needing my blessing, as if I and only I can hear their pleas,
their wishes, their last breaths.
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Nin Andrews’ poems have appeared in many literary journals and anthologies including Ploughshares, Agni, The Paris Review, and four editions of Best American Poetry. The author of seven chapbooks and seven full-length poetry collections, she has won several awards including two Ohio individual artist grants and the Ohioana 2016 Award for poetry. She is also the editor of a book of translations of the Belgian poet, Henri Michaux, Someone Wants to Steal My Name. Her most recent book, The Last Orgasm, was published by Etruscan Press in 2020.
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Ramon Casas i Carbó (1866–1932), After the Ball (or Young Decadent)
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Author: Terence Winch