Fever Dreams of the First Six Months

So, inevitably I caught some kind of bug as my autumn term is wrapping up. I’ve been mulling over my penultimate offering before I fly back to the motherland, but I feel a bit feverish and ill-equipped for prose. So I thought I’d give you some weird poetry instead, based on some of my favourite photographs of my time in Japan. Haiku, naturally.

 

Mossy mannequin,

Reaper of all dirty prayers.

Coin-collecting god.

 

 

Tot me with the birds;

I’ve an eye for island lairs,

Endless migrations.

 

 

My Diogenes

Is a fisherman, and lives

In a sake pot.

 

 

 

Soft erasing fog

We were never here at all

_End_Deleted_Scene_

 

 

 

Sleepy grey sunlight

Pans across a cityscape

Adjust composure.

 

 

All wayward beacons

Being considered, we lit

Another lantern.

 

 

Silent camera

Swivels askance to surveil

A silent city

 

 

Babel recurring

Mobile masts claw up like spires

Into heavens’ reach.

 

 

On a stone dais-

Centuries unfold below;

We will wait them out.

 

 

 

 

Torii connect worlds,

Hugger-mugger vermillion

Universe cluster.

 

 

 

 

Home is a harbour.

But you’re seaward bound again,

Tires on your hull.

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