from a book on The Drama (public domain)‘Kissing Cousin’ and Other Poems by Joseph S. Salemi The Society May 24, 2025 Culture, Humor, Poetry 33 Comments . Kissing Cousin I see her every two years, usuallyWhen someone dies or marries. And we kissAs if we were old lovers, passionately,Just as a silly spoof. She says I missThese hot encounters! Prudish maiden auntsAre duly scandalized, and start to talk.I say Now ladies, I’ve kept on my pants—When they come off, you’ve got the right to squawk. The family laughs, we smile, the joke is done—The business that’s at hand takes our attention.At dinner, while conversing with her son,I learn that there’s a knot of fierce dissensionBetween her and her husband. And my bloodRises like rebel rivers in full flood. . . To a Girl in My Ancient Comedy Class Frankly, you could be one hotSweetie in a Plautine plot—Part of the whole panoplyOf baggage in a comedy:Braggart soldiers, pots of gold,Dimwit fathers growing old,Parasites and haunted houses,Churlish cooks and jealous spouses,Courtesans and concubines,Suggestively erotic lines,Long-lost siblings, clever slaves,Columns, arches, architraves—All those stage-props. As for me,I’m just hankering to beOne of those young wastrel sonsEnamored of your tits and buns. . . Eucharistic Ministrix We meet by chance inside a subway car—She’s off to purchase fabric, I to school.We’ve never talked at length like this. So far,A few words after Mass have been the rule.She’s bright-eyed, tall and lithe, with grey-blonde hairAnd milk-white Irish skin that breathes cologne.Although she is a grandmother, I stareAnd think of us in privacy, alone,Our clothes unbuttoned and askew, our handsJoined in a grasp that warms the friendly dark,A current of arousal in our glands,And we dry kindling ready for the spark.I’m troubled now, and real disquiet lingers—How can I take Communion from those fingers? . Poet’s Note These three pieces were composed at different times, but I have brought them together here to illustrate not real sex, but imagined sex in three separate contexts: the Family, the School, and the Church. They are meant to be provocative, but no more so than a pair of high-heels and fishnet stockings. They are products of fictive mimesis, though each one had its origin in a real situation: the first with one of my female cousins, the second with a student in an Ancient Comedy class, and the third after a chance meeting with the Eucharistic ministrix who serves at my local church. Remember the disclaimer “No animals were harmed in the filming of this movie”? Well, no women were compromised in the writing of these three poems. The sex herein was totally imaginary, in that it all occurred in my head, and expressed itself verbally on paper, as metrical compositions. They are poems, not calls to fornication. I ask that they be judged solely on their aesthetic quality, and not by the standards of outraged morality. . . Joseph S. Salemi has published five books of poetry, and his poems, translations and scholarly articles have appeared in over one hundred publications world-wide. He is the editor of the literary magazine TRINACRIA and writes for Expansive Poetry On-line. He teaches in the Department of Humanities at New York University and in the Department of Classical Languages at Hunter College. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. ***Read Our Comments Policy Here*** 33 Responses Russel Winick May 24, 2025 I enjoyed them. Thanks for sharing. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Many thanks in return, Russel. Reply Mike Bryant May 24, 2025 Joe, you are a bad, bad, bad boy! Here I am, eating a ham sandwich at my kitchen table, minding my own business, and you go and hit me with kissing cousins, student crushes, and holy hanky-panky—all before I’ve even had a sip of tea. Am I offended? Nope… These are what SCP poetry is all about… rhythm, rhyme and rapture… sailing along like a smooth and sexy carhop on rollerskates! Great stuff… Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Mike, whatever happened to those cute female carhops, scooting up to your car with a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake, and looking just as good enough to eat as the meal itself? What a loss… Many thanks for your kind words. Reply Roy Eugene Peterson May 24, 2025 The prude in me says castigate, and that I should not hesitate. Yet I must admire the rhyme that makes my mind work overtime. Salacious though these poems may be, they had a strange effect on me. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Roy, as long as my poems are interesting and compelling I don’t care if they are salacious. The root of the word “salacious” is salax, which means salty. A meal without salt is tasteless and boring, and that includes meals of poetry. Reply Roy Eugene Peterson May 24, 2025 Actually, Dr. Salemi, I found myself in similar situations, but without kissing on the lips my beautiful cousin. When I taught American Government, my first few classes were mainly for teachers who often waited to take it their senior year. Sometimes I felt they were intentionally tempting me. My first girlfriends I dated attended my church. Thus, I had a lot of empathy with all three poems. Susan Jarvis Bryant May 24, 2025 Joe, I love everything about these poems, including the hilarious poet’s note beneath – a much-needed disclaimer in these days of pearl-clutching piety and the “Me-Too” mob. I loved reveling in the sauciness and sensuousness of them, but much more than that, the craftmanship – the beauty of the art that brings your stories alive is to be admired. Joe, you are an inspiration, and I thank you for your gift to readers and your guts to write something edgy. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Dear Susan, thank you for your appreciative words. I try mightily to combine subjects that are intriguing with very carefully chosen English. These three pieces on my cousin, my student, and my ministrix were put together to show that sex is everywhere, even in the least expected places. Reply Frank Rable May 24, 2025 Joe, love is certainly a complicated subject that has baffled men over the years, and good on you to tackle it. Good examples, really. I’m aware of the seven(?) types of love as distinct concepts, but don’t they overlap? So in the example of the cousins, there is family love that drifts into playful love, but it is stopped dead in its tracks by the maiden aunts before becoming eros , romantic love. Eros can be erotic behavior, but always with the good of other party put first. I think. Of course there is sometimes an overlap between love and lust, just as the brain is multitasking it’s different priorities. This is all me working this out for my own edification. I find this to be an interesting topic and I hope there is more discussion here. I liked the poems very much. Can you share what age the admirer of the Irish grandmother was as you wrote this? Was it perhaps a memory from the past that she inspired? You’ve gotten me to think of these folks as real people. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Thank you for your comments, and I’ll try to clarify matters. The characters in the poems were all real people. My cousin and I were born seven years apart. Since these silly “hot encounters” occurred several times during family events, I can’t say more than that about our ages at any given incident. Let’s assume I was 45, and she was 38. The student in my Ancient Comedy class was in her late teens or very early twenties, while I was probably about 50. The eucharistic ministrix and I were, as far as I can guess, probably of roughly the same age (60 or thereabouts). I know that she had three adult children. Eros is frequently unconcerned with “the good of the other party.” It is often wildly selfish, or at least indifferent to its partner. This is why Eros was considered a dangerous and troublesome god in the ancient world. Reply Frank Rable May 24, 2025 Okay. I will ask this as a student to the professor, and absolutely no criticism is intended. When first hearing “eros”, I thought of “erotic”, and must be a variation of lust. But the seven types of love (unless there are more) are agape, philia, storge, ludus, pragma, philautia, mania, and eros,described as romantic love. To me it seems that wildly selfish behavior would be an exhibition of philautia, or self-love, or no love at all. Do you see my dilemma? I understand that once there were imaginary Greek gods involved in the meaning. Must that continue? Long ago, in the age of dinosaurs, I was given Jesus as a perfect example of Agape. (The other forms of love my teacher carefully bypassed, because they “didn’t matter.” Anyway, thank you for revealing not just the age I wondered about, but also the others, and that these were real people and real experiences. That’s above and beyond. Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Well, you know more about these seven different types than I do. If philautia is self-love, then it is a perfectly normal part of being human, since it is almost universally the case that persons love themselves and seek pleasure. Hatred of oneself would be pathological, in my view. We can forget about the god Eros, and just stick with the words “erotic” or “eroticism,” which as I see them simply refer to the pleasures evoked by carnal arousal. “Desire” or “lust” and the acts that excite them are normally called erotic, and these things vary from person to person, and to some extent from culture to culture. So I don’t see what your dilemma is. Most people know very well what it is to be erotically aroused, and they know what they need to satisfy it. And sometimes that satisfaction will be purely selfish, or it might be indifferent to the partner involved, or it might be deeply loving and considerate. All three situations are equally “erotic.” How a person chooses to satisfy himself will depend on many things: his personality, his upbringing, his individual sexual quirks, his age, and even his cultural background. In any case, he will always be acting in some degree to gratify his own self-love. So I don’t really understand what’s troubling you. As an old girlfriend of mine used to say: “When you’re hot you’re hot — when you’re not, you’re not.” My three poems are merely illustrations of that truth. Brian Yapko May 24, 2025 Joe, these are indeed edgy, ballsy poems which have a sexy, flirty quality to them rather than a deep and sensual one. This is not the Song of Songs celebrating the sensuality of married love but, neither is it the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition or a visit to Hooters. You’ve claimed a middle spot with all three of these poems somewhere in between romantic idealism and frank physicality. They are funny and there is a reality to them that is startling. Sexual fantasies and some level of inappropriate flirting banter are a part of life – and not just among the young. “Kissing Cousin” does push the envelope as far as challenging those prudish maiden aunts. Of course, in many cultures marriages between cousins are no big deal. And still there’s a slight “ick”factor underlying the poem – because the speaker and the cousin know that how outrageous that faux passion is. It is a joke and thus it remains. For some that’s unforgivable, but the fact of the matter is it makes for a funny situation and a highly entertaining poem with a hint of pathos and uncertainty at the end. With that discord between the husband and wife at the end, we have a reminder that we can never really know what goes on in other people’s relationships. “Ancient Comedy” is less complex and has no emotional Trojan Horse. It’s a situation comedy interior monologue which reminds me of the manic hilarity of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” (which – no coincidence – was based on the plays of Plautus.) The comic elements of your poem are highlighted by the laundry list of various staples of Plautine comedy – a delightful demonstration of comic technique. And by the time we get to the “tits and buns” we’ve been well-eased into the speaker’s lascivious mindset so that anything goes. The “Eucharistic Ministrix” is to some degree the most shocking of the three poems for daring to allow sensual fantasy to intrude into the church. Or, more accurately, on the subway but with the knowledge that the speaker’s object of affection is a ministrix of the church – forbidden fruit, in a sense. Though I am reminded of the sensuality the Bishop speaker infuses with The Bishop Orders His Tomb at St. Praxed’s, where he goes on and on about the woman he stole from a fellow clergyman. Forbidden fruit indeed. And yet we must note the astonishing number of sensual artworks in Italian churches. Michelangelo is unintelligible without the sensuality he brings to so many of his works, even though they are present in the sacred spaces of the Sistine Chapel, San Pietro in Vincoli and St. Peter’s Basilica itself. In Rome, even to this day they sell calendars of handsome, sensually-posed priests. Scandalous? Perhaps. Yet officially sanctioned. Suffice it to say that the fact that a person works for a church, in a church, or is part of the church does not in any way “unsex” them. Human beings are flesh and blood and there will always be religious-tinted fantasies. Your poem recognizes this. That final line questioning “how can I take Communion from those fingers” seems more rhetorical to me than an expression of angst. But the question itself captures a certain ambivalence which rings true and which also carries the shock of recognition. Many a parishioner has developed a crush on the pastor. Wonderful, thought-provoking and smile-inducing poems, Joe. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Brian, you always turn out to be the most perceptive of critics. You clearly see that I have tried to place sexuality into situations or contexts that are not normally congenial to sexual overreach, for the purpose of summoning up imagined sexual fantasy. And yes — a “forbidden fruit” theme runs through all three poems — sex between close family members, sex between teacher and student, and sex with a married lady who serves at religious ceremonies. In the first poem the maiden aunts are the only ones who are upset — perhaps precisely because they are physical “maidens.” In the second, the teacher-speaker represses his sexual feelings by immersing his thoughts into the paraphernalia of the Plautine comedies he is teaching. And the third is merely a fantasy imagined by the speaker as a result of a simple conversation with a woman on the subway. You’re right about the sensuous physicality that runs through much Renaissance painting, even when it is religious. By the way, this was noticed at the time, and we had some Comstockian types back then who objected vigorously to nudity in art. There was even one idiot Pope who wanted some of the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel to be retouched to cover up the private parts of some figures. Luckily for us, he was ignored. You are right about that last line: “How can I take Communion from those fingers?” It tries to capture an ambivalence, where what is forbidden oscillates with what is desired. Why shouldn’t the speaker take communion from the woman’s fingers? He has neither slept with her, nor even attempted to do so. All he has done is to fantasize, and create fictive mimesis out of that unfulfilled fantasy. All poets have the right to do this. Thank you for excellent analysis. Reply Frank Rable May 25, 2025 Joe: Okay, as I said, I asked as a student to a professor. My career path was far different than yours, and this endeavor in my latter years is just to fulfill important things that I missed in life. Evan has been very generous with his time and his acceptance of my poetic efforts, and I appreciate it greatly. I strive to achieve here and I use humor to hide the talent gap between poets here and myself. I accept your reply and appreciate it. But why the sarcasm? The “Well, you know more…. than I do”, and “I don’t really understand what’s troubling you” sound like you feel insulted. Don’t you get these kinds of questions in class? Can I tell you that when a poem of mine was first published almost a year ago, I held my breath waiting to see what the comments would be. I believe yours was the first, and it was encouraging. I thank you again for taking the time to read and comment on my first effort. I hope you can come to believe that I am not some “crafty grandpa.” I say what I mean and mean what I say. I asks questions simply because I want to know more. I would never ask questions here as a sneaky means of tearing down anyone’s work. So cut me some slack, OK. I already have a wife whose maiden name is Celona (yes, Sicily) who tears me a new one once in a while over perceived insults. And yet, 47 years because other times she is also very sweet to me. You don’t have to be sweet,ha ha. But can I have the benefit of the doubt sometimes? Shake hands, pardner, and let’s be friends. You would love my political leanings. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 25, 2025 Frank, really — I had no intent to insult you in any manner. What I said was not sarcastic. I had never heard of those seven types of love before, and that’s why I said that you knew more about it than me. That was the actual truth. The only names for love that I knew were eros, agape, and philia. When I said that I didn’t know what was troubling you, it was because your original post seemed to be anxious or worried. Since you said that you had a dilemma, I figured that something was amiss and that you wanted my thoughts. If there was something confusing in my three poems I wanted very much to clear it up for you, or anyone else who was uncertain. Those were my only intentions. I’m sorry you were offended by my language, and I apologize for it. If there is still something in the poems that is unclear or problematic, I’d be more than happy to try and explain what I meant in them, and why. My best wishes to you, in friendship. Reply Frank Rable May 25, 2025 Well, apparently neither of us are insulted. LOL I’d be honored to call you a friend, Joe. C.B. Anderson May 25, 2025 The first one looked familiar, Joseph, you devil, but the other two surprised me. I would guess that you know as much about classical erotica as anyone. The tradition & the continuation of the tradition are subjects that always arouse my interest and — by Jeezus! — some of my pieces that you published would scorch the mustache off a maiden aunt’s upper lip. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 25, 2025 Kip, I know those hot pieces of yours — unforgettable indeed. Why not give a shot at submitting them here to the SCP? Reply C.B. Anderson May 26, 2025 I’m not sure Evan would welcome them, but he is welcome to them if he leans that way. Maybe I’ll let him see them on a provisional basis. That is, not a true submission, but a proposal for a future submission. Julian D. Woodruff May 25, 2025 Reading these 3 poems and your note, Joseph, I found myself imagining what the poems would look like on most sites, where certain practices rule (about which you don’t give a damn). -Such art presumes a moral high ground; so the least inkling of humor has to go. -The “stanza”’s shaped quite arbitrarily, to make a paragraph. The “lines” we see are formed just as one trains a bonzai tree. – To lend the mundane weight, one should essay its costuming in the “mot recherché.” As to content, I may have found something beyond your intention in the 3rd. At the cathedral in _____ I used to receive often from a young woman whose eyes and sparkling teeth flashed in a simpering smile, giving me to know I was at that moment being dragged back from the gates of Hell. I wished for the priest (believer or not) or vested altar server, from whom I could receive the Body of Christ without such distractions. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Julian, the absence of humor (as an aesthetic policy) is now almost universal in mainstream websites and magazines. The goddamned tedious need to be SERIOUS all the time — it’s the most pretentious and offputting characteristic of much contemporary poetry. Laughter and raw comedy are considered declasse. As for what you say about receiving communion from a lovely lady — well, there’s no harm at all in fantasizing a bit. We can think, can’t we? Reply ABB May 26, 2025 I laughed my way through all of these and was left wanting more. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Thanks, Andrew. I hope I can produce some more of them. Reply Adam Sedia May 26, 2025 I enjoyed these. I picture them being written by a young man with raging hormones. I remember those days well. My favorite of the three was “Eucharistic Ministrix,” particularly the question at the end, which gives rise to a greater inquiry: should unconsecrated lay people off the streets with be handling our Lord? “Kissing Cousin” is also interesting. For me it definitely captures the spirit of extended relatives seen only at weddings and funerals who nonetheless want to gossip about everyone they see. I was quite amused by the idea of provoking them in the way you describe. The imagined sex in the second poem I thought takes a backseat to the pastiche of ancient Roman comedy, as though the speaker is really trying to focus on the course material. Which is distracting from which? Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Thank you, Adam. Actually I was well into middle age when I wrote the poems, so they are essentially reminiscences. As for that second poem, everything was designed to lead up to those last two lines, which are deliberately Rochesterian. Reply James A. Tweedie May 26, 2025 “Salacious” and “outrageous,” words that rhyme, What you describe we all can empathize. For somewhere in our past there was a time– A moment when we lingered with our eyes A bit too long on venial sins like these And hurried to Confession on our knees. But better this, to think it than to act, For though the Lord says both are much the same, The thought alone, restrained, shows far more tact. For when the thoughts are gone, then who’s to blame? But sharing them in poems ups the score, For everyone likes scandal even more! For some, such foibles turn their faces red. While wearing on their chests a scarlet “A.” While I’m content to laugh and nod my head– A kindred spirit-pilgrim on the way. For laughing in the mirror never hurts, Far worse, to hide our sins behind our shirts. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Thank you, James, for this delightful poetic comment. Frankly, I’ve never accepted the scriptural admonition that to look at a woman with lust in one’s heart is the same as committing adultery with her. It smacks too much of the thought-control and enforced groupthink that were the marks of the twentieth century. Wokeness, feminism, CRT, left-liberal ideology — what else are they except telling others what one is not allowed to think? Reply C.B. Anderson May 26, 2025 But, as Rudolf Steiner wrote, “A thought is a deed.” I hope this is true, because sometimes that’s as close as I’ve ever gotten. Reply Frank Rable May 26, 2025 Holy cow! C.B. I’m laughing. You set up that joke perfectly. Worthy of the borscht belt for sure, but with the addition of an Austrian intellectual to put more distance between the setup and the punch line. And the more taken by surprise the audience is, the funnier the joke. From my snare drum to you, “ta dssshh”. And Joe, well done on prying yourself loose from the nuns’ indoctrination. I was told that if I turned around in church, an angel might slap me in the face. In eighth grade, a classmate of the fair sex (sex indeed) cleaned the boards mere feet away, her uniform growing tighter each week, inspiring thoughts of things that would not be for some time. And off to confession you must go merely for evil thoughts about evil deeds. And no remedy save more reasons for confession going. And then one day, mercifully, it hits you. Your thoughts are your own, nobody’s business, and just an electrical interaction of neurons. But that brainwashing in the service of chastity is powerful and intended to control your beliefs and urges until you join the sacramentally approved Baby Manufacturers Association. And then the gloves (and pants) can come off, and yee haw, cowboy, move ’em out, head ’em up, ride ’em in. Rawhide, hah! Or something like that. Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Frank, when I was in my early twenties I seriously considered entering the Jesuit order. I had been trained by them, and I respected them immensely. My father advised me to put off my decision for a year, and spend that time thinking about it carefully. So that’s what I did, and at the end of the year I decided to remain in the laity. The deciding factor? Very simple — the curvature of the female derriere. Frank Rable May 26, 2025 Bontà mia! Scioccanti! 😉 Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of followup comments via e-mail. 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Mike Bryant May 24, 2025 Joe, you are a bad, bad, bad boy! Here I am, eating a ham sandwich at my kitchen table, minding my own business, and you go and hit me with kissing cousins, student crushes, and holy hanky-panky—all before I’ve even had a sip of tea. Am I offended? Nope… These are what SCP poetry is all about… rhythm, rhyme and rapture… sailing along like a smooth and sexy carhop on rollerskates! Great stuff… Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Mike, whatever happened to those cute female carhops, scooting up to your car with a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake, and looking just as good enough to eat as the meal itself? What a loss… Many thanks for your kind words. Reply
Roy Eugene Peterson May 24, 2025 The prude in me says castigate, and that I should not hesitate. Yet I must admire the rhyme that makes my mind work overtime. Salacious though these poems may be, they had a strange effect on me. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Roy, as long as my poems are interesting and compelling I don’t care if they are salacious. The root of the word “salacious” is salax, which means salty. A meal without salt is tasteless and boring, and that includes meals of poetry. Reply
Roy Eugene Peterson May 24, 2025 Actually, Dr. Salemi, I found myself in similar situations, but without kissing on the lips my beautiful cousin. When I taught American Government, my first few classes were mainly for teachers who often waited to take it their senior year. Sometimes I felt they were intentionally tempting me. My first girlfriends I dated attended my church. Thus, I had a lot of empathy with all three poems.
Susan Jarvis Bryant May 24, 2025 Joe, I love everything about these poems, including the hilarious poet’s note beneath – a much-needed disclaimer in these days of pearl-clutching piety and the “Me-Too” mob. I loved reveling in the sauciness and sensuousness of them, but much more than that, the craftmanship – the beauty of the art that brings your stories alive is to be admired. Joe, you are an inspiration, and I thank you for your gift to readers and your guts to write something edgy. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Dear Susan, thank you for your appreciative words. I try mightily to combine subjects that are intriguing with very carefully chosen English. These three pieces on my cousin, my student, and my ministrix were put together to show that sex is everywhere, even in the least expected places. Reply
Frank Rable May 24, 2025 Joe, love is certainly a complicated subject that has baffled men over the years, and good on you to tackle it. Good examples, really. I’m aware of the seven(?) types of love as distinct concepts, but don’t they overlap? So in the example of the cousins, there is family love that drifts into playful love, but it is stopped dead in its tracks by the maiden aunts before becoming eros , romantic love. Eros can be erotic behavior, but always with the good of other party put first. I think. Of course there is sometimes an overlap between love and lust, just as the brain is multitasking it’s different priorities. This is all me working this out for my own edification. I find this to be an interesting topic and I hope there is more discussion here. I liked the poems very much. Can you share what age the admirer of the Irish grandmother was as you wrote this? Was it perhaps a memory from the past that she inspired? You’ve gotten me to think of these folks as real people. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Thank you for your comments, and I’ll try to clarify matters. The characters in the poems were all real people. My cousin and I were born seven years apart. Since these silly “hot encounters” occurred several times during family events, I can’t say more than that about our ages at any given incident. Let’s assume I was 45, and she was 38. The student in my Ancient Comedy class was in her late teens or very early twenties, while I was probably about 50. The eucharistic ministrix and I were, as far as I can guess, probably of roughly the same age (60 or thereabouts). I know that she had three adult children. Eros is frequently unconcerned with “the good of the other party.” It is often wildly selfish, or at least indifferent to its partner. This is why Eros was considered a dangerous and troublesome god in the ancient world. Reply
Frank Rable May 24, 2025 Okay. I will ask this as a student to the professor, and absolutely no criticism is intended. When first hearing “eros”, I thought of “erotic”, and must be a variation of lust. But the seven types of love (unless there are more) are agape, philia, storge, ludus, pragma, philautia, mania, and eros,described as romantic love. To me it seems that wildly selfish behavior would be an exhibition of philautia, or self-love, or no love at all. Do you see my dilemma? I understand that once there were imaginary Greek gods involved in the meaning. Must that continue? Long ago, in the age of dinosaurs, I was given Jesus as a perfect example of Agape. (The other forms of love my teacher carefully bypassed, because they “didn’t matter.” Anyway, thank you for revealing not just the age I wondered about, but also the others, and that these were real people and real experiences. That’s above and beyond.
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Well, you know more about these seven different types than I do. If philautia is self-love, then it is a perfectly normal part of being human, since it is almost universally the case that persons love themselves and seek pleasure. Hatred of oneself would be pathological, in my view. We can forget about the god Eros, and just stick with the words “erotic” or “eroticism,” which as I see them simply refer to the pleasures evoked by carnal arousal. “Desire” or “lust” and the acts that excite them are normally called erotic, and these things vary from person to person, and to some extent from culture to culture. So I don’t see what your dilemma is. Most people know very well what it is to be erotically aroused, and they know what they need to satisfy it. And sometimes that satisfaction will be purely selfish, or it might be indifferent to the partner involved, or it might be deeply loving and considerate. All three situations are equally “erotic.” How a person chooses to satisfy himself will depend on many things: his personality, his upbringing, his individual sexual quirks, his age, and even his cultural background. In any case, he will always be acting in some degree to gratify his own self-love. So I don’t really understand what’s troubling you. As an old girlfriend of mine used to say: “When you’re hot you’re hot — when you’re not, you’re not.” My three poems are merely illustrations of that truth.
Brian Yapko May 24, 2025 Joe, these are indeed edgy, ballsy poems which have a sexy, flirty quality to them rather than a deep and sensual one. This is not the Song of Songs celebrating the sensuality of married love but, neither is it the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition or a visit to Hooters. You’ve claimed a middle spot with all three of these poems somewhere in between romantic idealism and frank physicality. They are funny and there is a reality to them that is startling. Sexual fantasies and some level of inappropriate flirting banter are a part of life – and not just among the young. “Kissing Cousin” does push the envelope as far as challenging those prudish maiden aunts. Of course, in many cultures marriages between cousins are no big deal. And still there’s a slight “ick”factor underlying the poem – because the speaker and the cousin know that how outrageous that faux passion is. It is a joke and thus it remains. For some that’s unforgivable, but the fact of the matter is it makes for a funny situation and a highly entertaining poem with a hint of pathos and uncertainty at the end. With that discord between the husband and wife at the end, we have a reminder that we can never really know what goes on in other people’s relationships. “Ancient Comedy” is less complex and has no emotional Trojan Horse. It’s a situation comedy interior monologue which reminds me of the manic hilarity of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” (which – no coincidence – was based on the plays of Plautus.) The comic elements of your poem are highlighted by the laundry list of various staples of Plautine comedy – a delightful demonstration of comic technique. And by the time we get to the “tits and buns” we’ve been well-eased into the speaker’s lascivious mindset so that anything goes. The “Eucharistic Ministrix” is to some degree the most shocking of the three poems for daring to allow sensual fantasy to intrude into the church. Or, more accurately, on the subway but with the knowledge that the speaker’s object of affection is a ministrix of the church – forbidden fruit, in a sense. Though I am reminded of the sensuality the Bishop speaker infuses with The Bishop Orders His Tomb at St. Praxed’s, where he goes on and on about the woman he stole from a fellow clergyman. Forbidden fruit indeed. And yet we must note the astonishing number of sensual artworks in Italian churches. Michelangelo is unintelligible without the sensuality he brings to so many of his works, even though they are present in the sacred spaces of the Sistine Chapel, San Pietro in Vincoli and St. Peter’s Basilica itself. In Rome, even to this day they sell calendars of handsome, sensually-posed priests. Scandalous? Perhaps. Yet officially sanctioned. Suffice it to say that the fact that a person works for a church, in a church, or is part of the church does not in any way “unsex” them. Human beings are flesh and blood and there will always be religious-tinted fantasies. Your poem recognizes this. That final line questioning “how can I take Communion from those fingers” seems more rhetorical to me than an expression of angst. But the question itself captures a certain ambivalence which rings true and which also carries the shock of recognition. Many a parishioner has developed a crush on the pastor. Wonderful, thought-provoking and smile-inducing poems, Joe. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 24, 2025 Brian, you always turn out to be the most perceptive of critics. You clearly see that I have tried to place sexuality into situations or contexts that are not normally congenial to sexual overreach, for the purpose of summoning up imagined sexual fantasy. And yes — a “forbidden fruit” theme runs through all three poems — sex between close family members, sex between teacher and student, and sex with a married lady who serves at religious ceremonies. In the first poem the maiden aunts are the only ones who are upset — perhaps precisely because they are physical “maidens.” In the second, the teacher-speaker represses his sexual feelings by immersing his thoughts into the paraphernalia of the Plautine comedies he is teaching. And the third is merely a fantasy imagined by the speaker as a result of a simple conversation with a woman on the subway. You’re right about the sensuous physicality that runs through much Renaissance painting, even when it is religious. By the way, this was noticed at the time, and we had some Comstockian types back then who objected vigorously to nudity in art. There was even one idiot Pope who wanted some of the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel to be retouched to cover up the private parts of some figures. Luckily for us, he was ignored. You are right about that last line: “How can I take Communion from those fingers?” It tries to capture an ambivalence, where what is forbidden oscillates with what is desired. Why shouldn’t the speaker take communion from the woman’s fingers? He has neither slept with her, nor even attempted to do so. All he has done is to fantasize, and create fictive mimesis out of that unfulfilled fantasy. All poets have the right to do this. Thank you for excellent analysis. Reply
Frank Rable May 25, 2025 Joe: Okay, as I said, I asked as a student to a professor. My career path was far different than yours, and this endeavor in my latter years is just to fulfill important things that I missed in life. Evan has been very generous with his time and his acceptance of my poetic efforts, and I appreciate it greatly. I strive to achieve here and I use humor to hide the talent gap between poets here and myself. I accept your reply and appreciate it. But why the sarcasm? The “Well, you know more…. than I do”, and “I don’t really understand what’s troubling you” sound like you feel insulted. Don’t you get these kinds of questions in class? Can I tell you that when a poem of mine was first published almost a year ago, I held my breath waiting to see what the comments would be. I believe yours was the first, and it was encouraging. I thank you again for taking the time to read and comment on my first effort. I hope you can come to believe that I am not some “crafty grandpa.” I say what I mean and mean what I say. I asks questions simply because I want to know more. I would never ask questions here as a sneaky means of tearing down anyone’s work. So cut me some slack, OK. I already have a wife whose maiden name is Celona (yes, Sicily) who tears me a new one once in a while over perceived insults. And yet, 47 years because other times she is also very sweet to me. You don’t have to be sweet,ha ha. But can I have the benefit of the doubt sometimes? Shake hands, pardner, and let’s be friends. You would love my political leanings. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 25, 2025 Frank, really — I had no intent to insult you in any manner. What I said was not sarcastic. I had never heard of those seven types of love before, and that’s why I said that you knew more about it than me. That was the actual truth. The only names for love that I knew were eros, agape, and philia. When I said that I didn’t know what was troubling you, it was because your original post seemed to be anxious or worried. Since you said that you had a dilemma, I figured that something was amiss and that you wanted my thoughts. If there was something confusing in my three poems I wanted very much to clear it up for you, or anyone else who was uncertain. Those were my only intentions. I’m sorry you were offended by my language, and I apologize for it. If there is still something in the poems that is unclear or problematic, I’d be more than happy to try and explain what I meant in them, and why. My best wishes to you, in friendship. Reply
Frank Rable May 25, 2025 Well, apparently neither of us are insulted. LOL I’d be honored to call you a friend, Joe.
C.B. Anderson May 25, 2025 The first one looked familiar, Joseph, you devil, but the other two surprised me. I would guess that you know as much about classical erotica as anyone. The tradition & the continuation of the tradition are subjects that always arouse my interest and — by Jeezus! — some of my pieces that you published would scorch the mustache off a maiden aunt’s upper lip. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 25, 2025 Kip, I know those hot pieces of yours — unforgettable indeed. Why not give a shot at submitting them here to the SCP? Reply
C.B. Anderson May 26, 2025 I’m not sure Evan would welcome them, but he is welcome to them if he leans that way. Maybe I’ll let him see them on a provisional basis. That is, not a true submission, but a proposal for a future submission.
Julian D. Woodruff May 25, 2025 Reading these 3 poems and your note, Joseph, I found myself imagining what the poems would look like on most sites, where certain practices rule (about which you don’t give a damn). -Such art presumes a moral high ground; so the least inkling of humor has to go. -The “stanza”’s shaped quite arbitrarily, to make a paragraph. The “lines” we see are formed just as one trains a bonzai tree. – To lend the mundane weight, one should essay its costuming in the “mot recherché.” As to content, I may have found something beyond your intention in the 3rd. At the cathedral in _____ I used to receive often from a young woman whose eyes and sparkling teeth flashed in a simpering smile, giving me to know I was at that moment being dragged back from the gates of Hell. I wished for the priest (believer or not) or vested altar server, from whom I could receive the Body of Christ without such distractions. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Julian, the absence of humor (as an aesthetic policy) is now almost universal in mainstream websites and magazines. The goddamned tedious need to be SERIOUS all the time — it’s the most pretentious and offputting characteristic of much contemporary poetry. Laughter and raw comedy are considered declasse. As for what you say about receiving communion from a lovely lady — well, there’s no harm at all in fantasizing a bit. We can think, can’t we? Reply
Adam Sedia May 26, 2025 I enjoyed these. I picture them being written by a young man with raging hormones. I remember those days well. My favorite of the three was “Eucharistic Ministrix,” particularly the question at the end, which gives rise to a greater inquiry: should unconsecrated lay people off the streets with be handling our Lord? “Kissing Cousin” is also interesting. For me it definitely captures the spirit of extended relatives seen only at weddings and funerals who nonetheless want to gossip about everyone they see. I was quite amused by the idea of provoking them in the way you describe. The imagined sex in the second poem I thought takes a backseat to the pastiche of ancient Roman comedy, as though the speaker is really trying to focus on the course material. Which is distracting from which? Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Thank you, Adam. Actually I was well into middle age when I wrote the poems, so they are essentially reminiscences. As for that second poem, everything was designed to lead up to those last two lines, which are deliberately Rochesterian. Reply
James A. Tweedie May 26, 2025 “Salacious” and “outrageous,” words that rhyme, What you describe we all can empathize. For somewhere in our past there was a time– A moment when we lingered with our eyes A bit too long on venial sins like these And hurried to Confession on our knees. But better this, to think it than to act, For though the Lord says both are much the same, The thought alone, restrained, shows far more tact. For when the thoughts are gone, then who’s to blame? But sharing them in poems ups the score, For everyone likes scandal even more! For some, such foibles turn their faces red. While wearing on their chests a scarlet “A.” While I’m content to laugh and nod my head– A kindred spirit-pilgrim on the way. For laughing in the mirror never hurts, Far worse, to hide our sins behind our shirts. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Thank you, James, for this delightful poetic comment. Frankly, I’ve never accepted the scriptural admonition that to look at a woman with lust in one’s heart is the same as committing adultery with her. It smacks too much of the thought-control and enforced groupthink that were the marks of the twentieth century. Wokeness, feminism, CRT, left-liberal ideology — what else are they except telling others what one is not allowed to think? Reply
C.B. Anderson May 26, 2025 But, as Rudolf Steiner wrote, “A thought is a deed.” I hope this is true, because sometimes that’s as close as I’ve ever gotten. Reply
Frank Rable May 26, 2025 Holy cow! C.B. I’m laughing. You set up that joke perfectly. Worthy of the borscht belt for sure, but with the addition of an Austrian intellectual to put more distance between the setup and the punch line. And the more taken by surprise the audience is, the funnier the joke. From my snare drum to you, “ta dssshh”. And Joe, well done on prying yourself loose from the nuns’ indoctrination. I was told that if I turned around in church, an angel might slap me in the face. In eighth grade, a classmate of the fair sex (sex indeed) cleaned the boards mere feet away, her uniform growing tighter each week, inspiring thoughts of things that would not be for some time. And off to confession you must go merely for evil thoughts about evil deeds. And no remedy save more reasons for confession going. And then one day, mercifully, it hits you. Your thoughts are your own, nobody’s business, and just an electrical interaction of neurons. But that brainwashing in the service of chastity is powerful and intended to control your beliefs and urges until you join the sacramentally approved Baby Manufacturers Association. And then the gloves (and pants) can come off, and yee haw, cowboy, move ’em out, head ’em up, ride ’em in. Rawhide, hah! Or something like that.
Joseph S. Salemi May 26, 2025 Frank, when I was in my early twenties I seriously considered entering the Jesuit order. I had been trained by them, and I respected them immensely. My father advised me to put off my decision for a year, and spend that time thinking about it carefully. So that’s what I did, and at the end of the year I decided to remain in the laity. The deciding factor? Very simple — the curvature of the female derriere.
