Just when you think Ed Sanders cannot go any lower and he had has reached the limits of bad taste, he digs a little deeper and heaps another pile of dirt onto the grave of fine literature. In 1967, Sanders spurted out Fuck God in the Ass. It does grab your attention, don't it.
The Elm Fuck Poem, "I dont give a pound of mule mucous," Hymn to the Existential Hole, "The Cemetery Plot of Ed Sanders Shall Consist of," and Soft Man 11 are a few choice selections from Sanders collection of poems that previously appeared in places like Mother and The Dick.
Sadly I only have one of the 500 trade editions. I wouldn't mind seeing the "photograph of Ed Sanders coming into the oily summer crotch of an Elm tree" in The Tree Frig edition. To say nothing of the "beautiful drawings" by Joe Brainard depicting Sanders's "secret dream fantasies of carnal union with Marianne Moore."
"In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand/the raw material of poetry in all its rawness and/and that which is on the other hand/genuine, you are interested in poetry."