The Erotic Poetry Fest comes to the Tangent

Talking hard.

The Erotic Poetry Fest comes to the Tangent
Courtesy photo

On Saturday, Feb. 22, the Tangent Gallery will host the 27th Erotic Poetry and Music Festival, tagged “an eclectic celebration of the erotic arts.” A zany lineup of clowns, dancers, musicians and, yes, poets will come together to perform and, in the process, titillate.

“It’s an experience,” says poet Dena Luckett. “While the Dirty Show is more about the visuals, this is an auditory experience.”

Luckett joins a lineup of poets that includes Jimmy Doom, Lianna T., Michele Lundgren, Veronica Frick, and Scott Boman. There will also be performances by Satori Circus, the Detroit Dizzy Dames Burlesque starring Lushes LaMoan, Audra Kubat, Stephanie Loveless, Margaret DollRod, Anastasia Gold, Olive Jus and Tara Lazaroff.

“I’m a voyeur,” Luckett says. “I like to watch people and sometimes I’ll write about the people in the room, on the spot. I like to make people see what I’m trying to get them to think.”

Artist Tara Lazaroff says that she will actually be performing three songs at the event, as well as displaying a few pieces of art. “This is my fourth year here,” Lazaroff says. “It’s at the Tangent Gallery, a larger venue than it has been at in the past, so we might see more art.”

Lazaroff says that the secret to good erotica is “being a little mysterious. I like writing with double entendres, keeping it interesting. See if you can interpret something a couple of different ways.”

Fair enough, but one would imagine that there won’t be too much wriggle room at the Tangent.

The 27th Erotic Poetry and Music Festival takes place at 9 p.m. on Saturday, Feb. 22, at the Tangent Gallery; 715 E. Milwaukee St., Detroit; 313-873-2955; $10.



I think of you

in the shower

(a bar of soap

gliding sensuously

across wet skin)

one hand caressing

stomach, silently

slipping between:

fantasy images-

limbs, entwined,

bodies, warm;

steamy lips part

sigh escaping...


I think of you

in the shower

(stroking soft flesh-


muscles quivering)

cacophony of cascading

water, white noise,

against growing groans.

Pressing palm

to cool tile,


makes me smile,

with each

muted moan.


I think of you

in the shower

(pure bliss)

an escape,


scent of


I slip

into sheer

satisfaction .


A Girl’s Gotta Have Her Morning Fix


in line

for a morning


takes on new meaning


my breasts


against him


but he takes it

to mean

I’m interested.




I feel






of ass.


I am sandwiched

between the counter

and his blatant


of my

personal space.


Hot breath,

on neck,

he whispers

“Meet me outside”.

Flick of tongue

upon ear

sends lightening


into body…

and I go.




of owner,

I slide

onto hood

of Candy-apple

red Porsche—

knee high

leather boots


grille, skirt


up thighs.

He smiles,


pulls free

and starts


right then-



The owner

of the car,

comes out

(to watch)

as legs part

to reveal…






Sleep’s Seductive Lure

I dream of you

in black and white,

I dream of you

in color:


across dark

landscapes of sleep,

against dawn’s encroaching hours.


naked, pressed against

sleeping body;

thighs gently

nudging tired form into action.


quiet; tracing curve of neck,

silent save for lust


behind beautiful eyes.


aroused, a rush of adrenaline

pushing mind to want

every inch of all that is me.


beneath stars,

crystalline portraits of perfection

clamoring for attention

against early April sky. 


I dream of you,

in language foreign,

je rêve, je rêve…

but words do not form the same

on a somnambulist’s tongue.


Perhaps, I must wake,

and I will,

if only to feel your mouth

upon mine

or to see sunlight

dance across bodies, united.


Show Me…

It is late

and, despite having finished

a stellar performance

mere hours before,

hands seek body

not out of need

but necessity.

Inquisitive eyes

openly search for

approval, to begin,

as a quick check

indicates readiness.


Long, unhurried kisses start

this set;

hands stroking

shoulders, sliding down spine

to small of back.

Your leg parts mine, to press

thigh against tingling mound.

Our bodies vibrate with a beat

all their own; rhythms accelerate and

kisses become an attempt to taste

being.  Palms burn with frenzied

feeling as we blindly see

past muscle and sinew to within.

For this song, I’ll start on bottom

hips hungrily poised to accept

you, note by note.  The music played

a mix of soul and funk, one of unity,

a compilation unlike any other ever seen. 



I am giving

a blow-job

to Mark Harmon

while we are stranded

on an island

called Palau.


Massaging the bulge

of his

worn Levi’s


501’s, I move

my fingers

into position.


Button slipping,


his Calvin


come quickly into view,



I hide my Peppermint






I wet my dry-cracked lips,


for a tube

of Cherry chapstick or a

cold Killian’s Irish Red

to quench

my thirst.


With trepidation I reach in


the whole of his


like the stick shift

of a 2009 Shelby




I free

the object of my


I strike

paralyzing my prey

with sheer

animal skill-

coiling my way around

and around

as the python

envelops its victim.


He moans

I wake.



WTF?  I am watching

WAY too much TV!


If Only

Imagine 1960

as they lounge around in awe

Her tits are almost perfect,

at least the parts they saw.


Collectively they pause to think

as silence fills the air

“Let’s call the color Titty Pink”

He says, pointing to the pair.


One second passes, then they cry-

“it’s brilliant, GENIUS, and none-to-sly!”

“You’ve got the market nailed down tight!”

“We’ll send the specs out straight tonight.”


“What the Hell?” the woman shrieks…

Her hands feel wet, her knees feel weak.

They see her pale, they hear her gasp;

Peter moves to grab her ass.


Our lady strong, and smiling still,

slides with grace towards him ‘til…

She’s right before the CEO,

grabs his cock and says, “Let’s GO.”


He jumps a bit, then stands upright

proclaiming “Damn!  It’s a productive night.”

She whispers, breathy in his ear

and then her mood begins to clear.


He moves his hand to smooth her hair

agreeing, “I think it’s only fair.”


“Boys,” he says to the eager herd…

“get this woman a Thunderbird.”


“It’s the least we can do-

to repay our debt-

to the owner of

this lovely set!”