THE DEALER

I come as you call
though I’m a busy man
light in my step dressed
for my fancy dinner I
disturb the intimacy of your
midnight fever
you might greet me politely this time
you don’t
you’re rude and tired and younger than you look hunching over your desk, treacherous
ink spilled filling the paper
bad bad work stupid many words
none with the sticky stuff that assures your name in
history pity pity
          more more you say to me i want more
your room is ridiculous, I hate the gush and
big city buzz but
you’ve never cared for the simple preferences of
your overcalled dealer
the price goes up, rises as the sea does
it’s going to drown us sooner
than the Sun falls the wrong way around
with a frown
you don't care about that either
          i need this job, you say, i need the noise the words
          i need to say it all before it slips from me
          please dont take my job from me
I only take what is given, you know that
          i need to cross the threshold before it explodes
          tic tic tic the clock goes
          before i sag and turn cynical
          my frail bones making
          efforts against breaking
          unsuccessfully
          i need to say more more and reach
          into other ribs to teach and rescue
          but most importantly to hide my
          dear dearest mind from time
          and my own negating pride
          suicidal carnaval ride
yawn
I’ve heard it all before
despite desperate little toy
of course, no trouble
give me let’s see more of
your heart and soul
an eye to make sure
our visits don't get too vital
          deal
beautiful
I linger as you throw yourself back
onto the paper, dark and smudged
entirely eager
I know what's next, your hands
skin first nerves later
your tongue is so smart it’ll be a twister
down with the big old boys
I’m just here on business, not to get personal
but I used to like you more more more
before the whole dying for the wrong cause
fiasco
you used to want to touch me badly
learn my language of levity
experimental tendency
but now I might as well be talking to a wall I'm not even going to be
the one to take you in the end
it'll be those goddamned cigarettes.


Fanni Elo, 23, Glasgow - UK (currently) IG: @fanni_elo

“Fanni Elo is a film graduate on paper, a chaos in practice. Born and raised in Hungary currently living in the UK. Her work has been previously published in Brack Water Poems. She loves love, art and tea. Occasional prophet, full-time visionary.”

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AUERBACHIAN REVELS

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LITERALIZING BUTTERFLIES BECAUSE WE’RE ALL SPECIMENS