I Am Eating America Clean

Two poems by Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi

empty plate

I Am Eating America Clean

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i too do not like a party too childreny

I too do not like a party

Too childreny

Because then I think

How many will my witch eat

And will she be too bloated

When the sponge of passion

Fruit and lemon cream

Is hoisted up the altar

With its crown of fire

Obviously there are more seriousy problems

When a party is childreny

The drinking songs are all fucking wrong

The slippers shrink and my foot

Must be crammed like walnut meat

The virgin sacrifice is poorly received

My witch eats her weight in feelings

I drown my sandwich in donkeys blood

All that rich food

None of my bottoms fit right

I must walk about nakedly twelve days

The children laugh and rub a butter on me

They believe a body like me

Will not happen to them

O but they have tasted the cursed food

The costco sheetcake

Fit for a mormon family reunion

The costco chickenbake

With the blood of a caesar dressing

We jump into the air in unison

When we land the earth ruptures darkly

The blind honey of a melon

new dawn fades

Quite obviously I am living the american dream

Snakes pour from the heads of my daughters

Amnesia spills out of our pockets

The eternal in me recognizes

The eternal in your keep

It is a reading of all my trespasses

It is your forensic accountant

It is my foam and honey

Of the petri plate

Igniting a sentient mohawk

For the psychoanalyst

She slips on the gloves but

The gloves are not sterile

Or even physical because

The work is not of this world

She must reach into my dinosaur brain

That shit is deep oil

Which is why her symbolic gloves

Go fingertip to forearm

Obviously I am eating america clean

It falls from meat

Like the bones of a slow-cooked creature

It is the home of free shipping free relocation

To be unfree in this home is brave

It is a home of pillars and no roof

And voices falling from the bone

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