poetic fragments op.42

Pink noise

The galaxy deeply in my ears

Revolving like crazy.

Penetrated by the monotone sound,

I’m lost in a maze.

I lose my grasp
On this place.

At a crossroads in the maze,

Planting a flag saying,

“The charity for the recovery from the Great East Japan Earthquake,”

An old man edging a knife.

The sound sounds nice
for the ears of the galaxy.

He eagerly growling,

Achime ohhhhhhhh oke

Achime ohhhhhhhh oke

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The old man sharpening a knife.

By its silver blade edge,

With his conjuration

I get an urge to be pronged.

Yet God already died,

So the emperor probably died too.

Shishishishishishishishishishishishishishishishishi

Jihhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

You react to the same sound. It’s called pink noise.

Pink noise:

A really pretty name.

Nevertheless

My galaxy so cruel

That hearing the silver voice
never comes to good things;

Getting horny to rain, having a hatred for snow

Eager for the water of Sega well, Sega well.

Don’t drink only water so much.

The old man has dived suddenly

To a train of Shinkeisei line.

He mimics the dead under it.

A young station staff
Chastises him fiercely

With his loud voice as if reaching another world
Everything has already indeed

Reached this world, I suppose…

Aishi aishi

Aishiaishishishishishishishishi

Now I remember,

A long time has passed

Since I was called my name lastly from my dead father.

This time,

I call your name
Light, sea―

Women named so.