the angel of death and vegetables

To Błażej Krukowski

I am the angel of death
(I can't hear much
this is why they say
I am death

I have a cucumber near my ear
it would not go in
they told me
it would be fatal

I am the angels of vegetables
tell me now, delivery man
whom to blame for my outgrowth of hair
on top of the peach's fuzz

I am the driver of the truck
that brings me turnips
you are
the customer

how much is this bread?
I would like half a loaf of margarine
give me sunshine
spread eagle on a slice of toast

the clicking, the clicking will kill us
and then we'll know
there is no way to save the day
except with tomato paste

you will bring me food for my mouth
and I will put it
to find later

I hunger for thirst
I thirst for hunger
bring me מלפפון חדש
bring me たまご

I don't know how to say this
in a language
I am a word
that requires care

ohhhhh deliveryman
I am: deliveryman
you are: deliveryman
we are all delivery

brua wua
gue gueeu

wyuee eueeu eueaa
myua gwua uea bleuruaa
—I was thinking to myself
when I was eating instant noodle soup—

"myuaaa wuaa  wee yoww