Shopping with an America

Das Meer in einer Quecksilber Umarmung mit der Küste
Bleigegossene Seen
ich entsinne mich
der amerikanischen Aussprache von
Aluminium
wie passend
die kontinentale Küste dieses »Landes« mit Aluminum als Wunden
ich lege Legierung
in sie

I sit at the gate, within the sterile body of an assassinated American president, and wonder if people think that I am into hardcore sex or have a nipple piercing judging by the Saturn rings hovering around my tiny, wooden ears. Creases like the ornament of raw wood. "Why is everyone into raw sex these days" as if condoms were an invention before sex, the primordial ooze. Forget it. I like the sound of supper, it has a biblical domesticity to it.

And I forgot that the sound of my voice is cholesterol
as I look at this industrial park
and think to my myself
whose belief is sustaining
who is watering these deserts
like I water my resentment towards my dad
an orphan to no one