a constant dream-ghost
(a found poem with excerpts from “The Guest Cat” by Takashi Hiraide)
Passing through the shopping district, this
fairly narrow, fan-shaped area reached the pinnacle of
chaos. But I too was already gone.
United in the shape of a distorted heart, some special optical phenomenon
hid her soft body. In an atmosphere of gloom its frosted glass looked like a
dim movie screen.
I was overjoyed and held my breath:
She arrived with a sparrow between her jaws, allowing us to yield
to the natural process of forgetting.
in a setting that was like being out in the woods,
the rhythm of illumination and concealment arrives in a series
of bad sounding coughs. I regretted the disappearance of my winged friend:
she would never cause any mischief, yet
you could see the claws become more visible.
Into the sea of hardship and even death, a unique
feeling of exaltation is communicated.
In a voice that was partly shout, partly a sob
I put my things together and
quickly retreated to the guesthouse.