-
SUSHI
We sit around the Tatami table thankful for the leg well redemption for aging knees, and socks without holes. We drink the sake warm and cold, and the Sapporo from the oversized bottles each pouring for the other as a proper host must. Several recall nights on Roppongi, or earlier on the Ginza, moments lucid…
-
ARRIGATO, GAZAIMUS
The old man walks slowly through the opulent lobby the light of the triple chandeliers refracted into a thousand spectra that dance on mirrored walls. The guard gently touches his elbow steering him as though he is blind drunk, while the bellman walks a step behind, like Charlton Heston through an invisible sea. The man…
-
WINTER TOKYO
A skeletal tree stands too many winters bones grown brittle, crackling ashen gun-metal gray, Tokyo Bay at evening’s onset a bird perches, staring at a last leaf clinging knowing frozen earth awaits. It is winter, sap pools in roots seeking earth’s dying warmth. We warm our hands by the fire, as bones of other trees…
-
SEA-ING
He believes he would like the ocean, imagines standing on the shore watching as the waves wash up to his feet, and as quickly retreat, smoothing the sand. He has never seen the ocean, only ponds and on large lake, but he imagines the ocean is just a giant lake with bigger waves. He would…
-
CORSO
When my back was turned, Corso slipped away somewhere in Wisconsin silently, without protest carried off by Charon across a gasoline river. There was no bomb to announce his departure, no Queens orphanage stopped frozen in a silent moment. In the small park at the north end of Salt Lake City no one lifted a…
-
DISEMBARKING NARITA
You disembark quickly a small bow to the flight crew, and walk briskly to immigration. The young man glances at your passport and embarkation card hands flying with the stamps. The baggage is offloaded onto the creeping segmented belt yours the fifth through the heavy plastic flaps hefted onto the cart. The customs agent pauses…
-
NEON
Tokyo floats on a sea of lights washing to the horizons, whitecaps of neon break the placid surface, golden arches bob like fishing boats awaiting the dawn and the rebirth of life. The urban sea is manned by sailors each in his uniform, some scampering up the rigging, hoisting the sails of steel, concrete and…
-
TOKYO MEMORIES
1. An older, silver-haired woman in neon green pants, a brown blouse and black shop apron stoops and carefully scrubs the alleyway outside her small shop. 2. Salarymen fill the tunnels of Kokkai-gijidomae station at 6 P.M., 7, 8, and in fewer numbers, 9, shuffling down the long corridors to the Chiyoda or Marunouchi Line trains,…
-
THROUGH GAIJIN EYES
1. From the window of the hotel bus the small, squared fields are a green that only painters achieve, deep, intense, unreal. As the bus inches forward along the Narita–Tokyo expressway the green forms neat rows set off by a shimmer of the gray sky mirror that bathes the young plants. 2. Tokyo is a…
-
TEINEI-SA 丁寧さ
He crawls out from under the blue tarp strung between two trees and a park bench with the first light of morning breaking over Shinjuku Chuo park, slowly erasing the shadows cast by the Metropolitan Government Building. He neatens the surrounding concrete, ready for the soon to be arriving crowd that appear each morning for…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 