【Download and Remix】
Nagae Yūki x Jordan A. Y. Smith
Is the same old beginning––
lightning in a sleeping ear, why……
Nothing sinks in, taken up in the faint Yamanote Line announcement,
woken just in time: tangent aversion.
Whirled into thirsting exponents, exhales vapor, disappears into a vague interior.
Gluttony, lust, avarice, wrath, sloth, pride, envy,
Analysis chances in the NASDAQian tide,
Mercury teaches us breaststroke.
But the city remains uncharmed.
Black goat white goat epistles,
Loop of annual fatigue.
As though to seize the splendid echo of a symbol’s arrival,
The nimble circumference of revolutions reaches for the future.
In the mountains, a butoh dancer waves déjà vu dosimeter
––in the city too, dragging the weight of many pounds,
who’s doing the plowing, no one inquires
convoys preparing receptacles for jest transplants,
The interstices of the unraveled season
ambition to measure them, plus hot pepper mists
red threads of human bonds dyed in the laughter
Flickering off the enamel
loath to surrender the stockpile of obscenity weapons,
Combing out the ends of plant-life,
They were such beauties
Deep roots of sleep-talk slacken, collapse,
in a land where the howls don’t carry,
Breezes silent into time’s intervals,
absolute indecipherable Truth
The lights’ hazy glow
steals in from the dimension of metal
The faint surface expressed through frothing hail,
hesitant to divulge any wisdom
dismembered by a smallness
Spring ice as we say
finally comes whispering
Of bright evening cherry blossoms
in sleep, the phoenix breathes sweetly, thrashes wildly
Above the open seams
interlaced with guitar strings
Pecking at the heat flashes
crafting lullabies from Revelation’s pitiful rags,
Calling the snow to melt, with a humming vitality
Their bustling din,
let’s surrender it to rhythm.
The fluidity of their motions
at the vow-inlaid dawn.
Beasts and flowers and grasses and such
I’ll borrow their souls just for a moment that
Meekly starts swaying
even though misheard, as
Now just a beginning,
novices cling to it:
charmed by the deaf-mutes who chow on it,
the goats bellow, the willow’s gown holds a universe beneath,
eyelids won’t open
Models for flickering memory—
let us go to sell them to the flag factory.
In the silicate glass hues
our character defects shine afresh,
their cracks widening,
nude God of our own understanding,
Trembling, come undone,
the spirits binding God’s shreds
Loosen, shaken by the aqueous scent,
so cold though
sounds from cobalt ice
pass down stories of kobold origins.
having known no pity for evanescence, a traitor awakes.
Bound in hexagonal crystal,
corpse of a prophesy-distorting predator evaporates
Deep in the transparent gaseous layers
laughter ripples the weave of molecules
Synched with the ether’s silver undulations
inhale a prayer, and melt the mausoleum of geometry。