Carly-Anne Ravnikar

Tough Hair

It comes to the Evangelist
& to the Zapatistas too

money
and fame

contemporaries loose particles
(whether it’s cellos or smart bombs)

but & I quote the distinct energy
of AH’s poems

it grows on their manicured fingering
of the 21 century clitoris

this source left mentioned
by her warm round peg

so
Fuck Money

is what one must pray in chanted whispers
in each interaction with the television

wrong wrong
jump headfirst into that hasta manana

in Camp Victory or Misery
wherever whoever you are make a fist

a Hard Fist
before the big ass comes down



I Get Lonely In The Shower



Before I step into the tub,
I pick up your loofah
and smell it.


It doesn’t smell like you,
like sweat and misgivings,
bridled air spores.


It smells like soap,
whichever was cheapest,
so I pee on it


and leave it in the tub to dry.


 
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