Lyn Lifshin

by Horror Sleaze Trash on February 28, 2011

Lyn Lifshin’s recent prize winning book (Paterson Poetry Award) BEFORE IT’S LIGHT WAS published winter 1999-2000 by Black Sparrow press, following their publication of COLD COMFORT in 1997. ANOTHER WOMAN WHO LOOKS LIKE ME  was published by Black Sparrow at David Godine following Lyn Lifshin=s recent prizewinning book (Paterson Poetry Award) BEFORE IT’S LIGHT. TEXAS REVIEW PRESS published her prize winning book of poems about the famous, short lived beautiful race horse, Ruffian: THE LICORICE DAUGHTER: MY YEAR WITH RUFFIAN Also, IN MIRRORS from Presa Press, AN UNFINISHED STORY, from Foothills Press and THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE from Plan B, A NEW FILM ABOUT A WOMAN IN LOVE WITH THE DEAD, March Street Press. She has published more than 120 books of poetry, including MARILYN MONROE, BLUE TATTOO, won awards for her non fiction and edited 4 anthologies of women’s writing including TANGLED VINES, ARIADNE’S THREAD and LIPS UNSEALED. Her poems have appeared in most literary and poetry magazines and she is the subject of an award winning documentary film, LYN LIFSHIN: NOT MADE OF GLASS, available from Women Make Movies. Her poem, “No More Apologizing” has been called “among the most impressive documents of the women’s poetry movement” by Alicia Ostriker.  An update to her Gale Research Projects Autobiographical series, On The Outside, Lips, Blues, Blue Lace, was published Spring 2003.  Other new chapbooks include , NOVEMBERLY  from ETC Press, WHEN A CAT DIES and ANOTHER WOMAN=S STORY, BARBIE POEMS,  SHE WAS LAST SEEN TREADING WATER, WHAT MATTERS MOST,  AUGUST WIND from Portrait Press and IN THE DARKNESS OF NIGHT from Concrete Meat Press. Her most recent books include BARBARO: BEYOND BROKENESS from Texas Review Press, PERSEPHONE from Red Hen,   NEW WORLD PRESS  published DESIRE and will publish ALL THE POETS (MOSTLY) WHO HAVE TOUCHED ME, LIVING AND DEAD. ALL TRUE, ESPECIALLY THE LIES.   Other new books include 92 RAPPLE, LOST IN THE FOG, NUTLEY POND, LIGHT AT THE END: THE JESUS POEMS and LOST HORSES and BALLET MADONNAS. CHIFFON and KATRINA  were published  in 2010 as well as BALLET MADONNAS and BALLROOM as well as a forthcoming  book ALL THE POETS (MOSTLY) WHO HAVE TOUCHED ME, LIVIGN AND DEAD: ALL TRUE, ESPECIALLY THE LIES.  She is has finished a book of new poems and a book of  new selected and collected poems as well as working  on other manuscripts. For interviews, photographs, more bio material, reviews, interviews, prose, samples of work and more, her web site is


floating thru chairs
then opening
your hand
snakes in thru corduroy
my slip rides up the sun
makes the rug into a wool beach
sand assapples a wave of
thighs opening
skin prints a v on the rug your
knees go there
and mouths suddenly too a
crack touch the pink smell
the sleek breathing flesh moans
a taste is nipples
bumping and your sail of blood
shove of bone tongue
traveling into this moist
lips opening the first bang of
hair and clothes rise from bodies
tremble the warm buttons rubbing
scratch of your mouth there
the damp nylon crotch
petals dissolving in a water my silk
hips you open and your fingers
under plunge so are pressing lips there
and your flesh
root shining
rocks your heat to my belly and my
legs spread so wide
greedy for the whole boat of you
in me your lovejuice dipping these
sloppy hills of cunt and you
put your good
hardness up me opening
skin rooms pounding
and circles slide your raw stem
my nails pull you
in and the slap of licked flesh oil
waves lunging and teeth
that eat everywhere ramming
the slit wet
opening and spread so
wide and splitting bite the sweet hot ache swell
your bomb breaking
too sucks the whole room up
fur zippersbeercans
and the sweat hair of groaning and sperm
till your cock bud throbs more
to ball me over and
again, better than summer
deep and nice
bringing everything


rain sloshing through
black walnuts, cherries
on white stones. Stillness,
green as the
palm except for the
dripping. Lie there
and spread those
legs wide. What do
you think when I’m
touching now you’re
tied down you can’t,
you want me in
deeper more honey.
Your cunt reaching
up and begging wetter
than leaves surrender-
ing opening wider
do you like wetter
a wet rose loud
as water in the
maples I didn’t
have that many
women but I
read a lot


How we could hear
the slap of water
lights on the Mohawk
the way you can almost
see the color of a
tulip in rain
before it is
Let’s you said do you
want to, we
could walk
down by the river
Lips of wine, I was
pulled the
magnolias opening
apricot river
warm leather and the
water smells. Lilac
wind. My lips
so open
you pulled me
down toward the bench,
pulled my hand
to where you
were least shy


Baby, you know I get high
on you, come back with me
whispering in her ear.
It was all she could do to say
no, spring leaves budding,
his hand on her breast,
crocus smell and
everything unfolding.
She gasping I want, I
would but instead hurrying
back to the windowless room
where she locks the heavy door.
Lemons are rotting on her pillow,
she studies her nipples,
nyloned crotch in mirror
then hugs her huge body to sleep


grin muffled but
sneaky, slithering
out like his penis
did in the Drive In
a June before I could
imagine anything so
slippery sliding up,
let alone inside
me after months of
Saturdays in my
mother’s gray apartment,
my sister giggling
behind the couch,
a tongue pressing
between lips should
have been a warning in
the blue Chevy I felt
he was all whale
crashing with his
now you’ve done
this to me, you have
to, everything in
me sand he
collapsed on

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