Sunday, June 28, 2009

train poems

So this is really embarrassing because I generally hate poets, poems and the word "poetry," but lately I have taken to jotting down little stream of consciousness blocks of words while I ride trains, feeling inspired I guess by bombarding my ears with music and my eyes and nodes with visions and thoughts of beautiful things. Anyway this is what I've got so far. These things are all scribbled on the backs of electricity bill receipts.

on the railbus to Yukuhashi
egrets make ripples in
reflected rice paddy skies
inappropriate melodies infiltrate
this toothless pastoral landscape
obachans meet slutty hemlines
hiked up pleats and mothball scent
lush greenery with clicking wheels
the possibility of a yakuza?

railbus to Yukuhashi re: lots of little fires
smoke forever
inhibiting factors
forever mountains
blue beyond smoke
shortness of breath
blinded by the sun

Relay-tsubame limited express train to Kumamoto
firesoul all aboard
majestic salarymen
scream in northern frustration
inside a black bullet
this train is bound for hell
going southerly
on nine something island

Relay-tsubame to Kumamoto
Picturing crunched up death
a collapsing Jacob's ladder
The idyllic aggrotech noise dream
Poetic bones are broken, hewn
haphazardly like ink strokes in
the meaningless characters that define
china, Japan, and our lives

Relay-tsubame to Kumamoto, watching a young conductor at work
The life of a train man
seems as saturated with purpose
as diamond encrusted chalices
or the Italian flag emoticon
Or Maybe...
an anencephalic child
Whose parents wanted their
little darling to become
an astronaut or a lawyer

on J-pop and how I enjoy it despite its retardation
simple lack of understanding
allows me to enjoy the corporate filth
contrived trash written by fat producers
inserting cigars into X's vaginas
you could ask Magic 8-Ball to write a better song
but it's all the same to me

arab music makes me think of this
sweet frankincense, myrrh, sodom and gomorra
myriad intoxicants mesh well with phrygian violins
heavily perfumed half steps and beautiful colors
cover up sour garlic axillary stench,
shisha hummus haiitosis,
or the unkempt, abundant wires which
conceal juicy pink and purple underthings
from whence liquids of fuck and life emerge

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