Landscape With Big Car Poem by Nicolas Born

With such a big car we're bound to come through
dead or alive
in the back of the neck a music
that never stops
sweet air of Montana bitter air of Missouri
our coats billow out like we're on the run
we fill up
there are dog catchers running around loose
us in the sidelong looks of cowboys
us in the spendthrift shade of an airplane
us outside Chicago's field of fire
we shake hands with William Fulbright
we haunt our way through Arkansas
we visit a poet's grave in his lifetime
green all around with just a touch of yellow
the demonstration runs into the flames of Phoenix
Arizona redbrown outer space black
we're a point moving westwards
we're not Americans
but we're part of it too
a sheriff pulls us over
no we didn't pick up a black hitchhiker
we're not horse thieves but we are Germans
our politeness is the politeness of foreigners
we're getting faster
we feel like we're roaring
packed in sweet air
and in a music that never stops
we're aging really slowly
thank you Pentagon
for this statistical delaying effect