That that rainbow's made of countless dead people when I die what color

                                                                              Kanie Naha

 

 

Midway through production of a certain action film, the lead actor suddenly passed away, and they continued filming with his younger brother substituting for him, rowing steadily on to completion. The screenplay was rewritten, and as though in mourning for the man, the tone of the second half shifted. Though we unsuspectingly go on, thoroughly convinced that we are living our own lives, without realizing it, we may be acting as substitutes for someone who has died. That may be why we are so frequently shown paintings by an artist born one year from the day big brother died. Considering he didn’t live on, his voice is so grand, yet the important things are narrated in such a tiny voice. Old used books somewhat scare me. The gaze of the dead falls, covering everything like a layer of dust. It’s like that story, if you urinate on a worm, it swells up. Eyes are wounds. Or gun barrels.

 

 

             ––––Translation by Jordan A.Y. Smith

Tokyo Poetry Journal

topojo2015@gmail.com

Tokyo Poetry Journal
c/o Jeffrey Johnson
English Department, Daito Bunka University
Iwadono 560 Higashimatsuyama-shi
Saitama-ken 355-8501 Japan

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Copyright Tokyo Poetry Journal 2020. All artwork and poetry copyrights remain with authors and artists.