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revised from Primitive Pianos

Hamam
(Ulus, Ankara)

the upchoke of black crumbs these
melancholy wakings now
attack the nipples
in the Hamam a man
slapped me
with soap bubbles
and scrubbed my face with sandpaper
red dots spot my back
what is raki without rhyme
what is lion’s milk
what are bluejays without Hermes
my hymen
amen
the people
are still moving
unassailed
they
are free in their
pussies
and crocks
free to love
in this red clay of Ankara

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