Remembering Diane di Prima

A memorial issue of the Swiss magazine Fabrikzeitung pays tribute to her poetry.

She who 

she whose face we have never seen she whose body is
 a door to the world she whose black thighs gleam w/ oil
w/ fat & oil

she whose laughter is the earthquake
she whose inhalation is the end of time

who can compass her round w/ his arms?
who can penetrate to the depth of her desire?

stars are the seed pearls she sets on her flesh
they are the milk of her breasts & the juice of her love 
her orgasm shakes the dark worlds to their depths

the lord of the dead stirs uneasy on his throne he is one 
of the teeth in her mouth

her daughters stream w/ flaming hair from the portals of 
hell they are the goddesses we can name, we name
them Nut
we name them Kali & Olokun, Omphale & Mara

it is at their hands that the gods of men receive power.

— Diane di Prima