Foreign Currency

[KonradS]

my soul
scouts lands completely foreign to me
where one and one wons make something closer to three

only there
do I not

moult, poco a poco
pouting as
my skin like dust
flakes into the soil of the family tree

no

no sons, daughters
or fathers
roiling peaceful affiliations
impinging on me cult predestinations
a hand, a nose, a familial brow
that cons, inveigles
me
into sub
-ordination.

here the snow boils
and that is just fine.