June 4th, 2006
Honsen from Enzan
ears pop horn whines
old man across the aisle shouts into his phone
ramble, clack, and sway
on the central line slowly winding
through the heart of Kanto.
I have Miles Davis on over-sized Pioneers
and grit and salt in the creases by my wanderlust eyes.
this is my song: padded seats and old government trains
twelve stations through the mountains, Enzan to Takao.
conductor stops by, smiling, and checks my ticket
I am at peace in this steel carriage.
hello rice fields, goodbye fishermen
hello bamboo camphored skylines
hey Otsuki, hey yellow house, when will I have
a wife and a roof and a small car that goes vreem
along snaking country roads?
where will I be a father and still a poet,
my little girl asleep on the carpet with my head
on arm so gazing, adoring you…
…
And now, back to home, back to a floor and bathroom to scrub, back to a fried egg sandwich just waiting to be the end of my spirited travel and toil, a bath with tingling salts; laughing fool. It’s as my comrade the cameraman asked last night, has my life been strict or sweet? Oh yes, no mistaking this life is certainly sweet. That most precious of lessons was taught to me by you, Melia.
