MELANCHOLIA, SMART DUST Poem by Ulrike Draesner

tiny magic-machine sprayed
ever smaller in components
almost invisible with the years
nearly a privilege when you
ah! fair suffering were invented
no rickshaw runner rolled
around the base of a traffic-light
has ever heard of you - you are
a climate

and natural - attractive
or subtractive hybrid
rugged wrinkles on
dürer's engraving (you always
wanted to appear pin-sharp
feminine with a tool kit)
admit
how much you love us

these days
you temp for disney
your japanese name karoshi
is as neat as a limb. bendy
bodies - scalpel, silicone - we
gladly drift along before you.
otherwise nimble you'll soon
be breathing yourself

in as toner powder
this impl°ded
inspirati°n. ° ° ° °
° ° ° ° °
° by my bed is a kind of
welling dough ° if someone tosses it
in hot fat i shall leap
and be a star

look, a black jeep
halting in front of the adventure park
the shiny carapace
of its door
look, i would like
little motes gleaming to
drive us through a once
m°re breathable air
°
°