BRANDON SHIMODA

from O BON

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

before I can see

 

the ogress

 

 

 

wale, empress or

 

red water becomes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

anther licking my ear

       okay

 

clutching the emperor to my

cleavage—is he mammal—my

shoulder—macaw

 

 

 

 

a paper box on a lady’s lap

must be a good one      the children laugh

know      I do not belong

 

 

 

 

smoke clearing the crematory

 

 

 

 

in the dark slaughtering

paper screens

 

bones transferred from beast

to one tasting

of nape rose

 

 

 

 

to avoid the trees

my grandfather

would not have forgiven me for

sympathizing with the natural world—

 

 

 

 

a broken vow, he loved

never sympathized

when he went natural

many years hence to its level

over the blowdown, the weather

watching, enfeebling lady

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

mist through the window

 

no letter

but cindered organs in the altar

 

 

 

 

as a young boy, an elder’s hand

holds the crest

 

 

 

 

every moment

the water of the last

moment, the first moment

of the last

immediately after—

 

 

 

 

the last forty-nine days

I have not slept

 

circling the trough of red water

washing your slumber

every moment where

welcomed the living threat in—

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

a crucian carp

falling into my lap

 

like me, it had too much to eat

 

 

 

carved thinly

airing out on the slope

black water growth of passenger masks      

 

parachutes closing upon a failing lung

a long determining ear—

 

 

 

I carry the carp in my undragoned hand      

home to feed to my larger half      

asleep on the love seat

 

the open window—  

 

 

        sylph on the wind

 

inflaming      

 

 

 

Wake up, the boned one steams      

gently through my throat—

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

people             

along the darkened shore      

         

             

charge of ribbon integuments      

 

 

 

 

freshen into antiquity      

 

new rivers, air

 

bladders where the stem meets the leaf, complete

 

                      now to pieces

 

 

 

 

Is it injurious to wear one’s self

around one’s waist:

 

 

in radiation first      is flash                  

 

burn, second

 

flame          

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

braids

falling to the sea—eels

behind the curtain

 

tiny nose stoic mouth

make murder more

delicate

 

flesh straps torn

to the planking

 

reflected

knives into the wrists

 

dragged

the inner arm

 

            floating

 

       the torrent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

dawning atoll—

 

scion plants at our waists

 

 

the people diminish      the people are diminishing

the people

barely perceptible

 

o      

 

 

foundering

 

deaf declivities

 

 

drafts

to the rice

 

the national eye      

 

sunken

            recitation

  there

no

     recitation     

 

o      

 

 

         no remnant

 

of her body or her bones

among the ash

      only

 

a blooming blackpoll, turning albino

 

o      

 

 

no wood to burn

but water

will carry our weight

 

      away

   blanched

branches

reach by yonder fast

 

the reeds of the paradise boat

 

o      

 

 

      thighs

 

 

 

 

stridulating

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

damsel fat      

 

 

jaundice stone

rolling the inner thigh

    the swell of proxy waves

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

Think of all the people

in the condensation by the river

where they—or so they believe—might prosper  

 

 

 

Parasols turn out flesh  

 

 

 

Eyes growing, ears and feet

growing. Heads and faces growing

demonstrably. The people, wastefully heavy

jacket to the rendering pit

 

 

 

Earth lightens

 

 

 

It has a name, after all

the intimacy of bodies fast becoming

occasion for slaughter. And the people—

holding tight with evermore thirst

rising away from their fat—

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

An ovary held between white grasses

 

drinks praise from attentive blooms

 

along hard, dated ground      a single life’s length

 

below

 

 

I slip into atomy

 

my family walked into the river

 

uneven curtain stretched from the wood—      

 

o      

 

 

feet swelling with deadweight

splintered lamps arousing

the cold water, ankles drawn by river grass

 

their legs (their shins, their knees

coils of wool wiring their thighs

 

their hands (their fingers curling

their fingertips, fingernails, the moss beneath their fingernails

 

ash in the folds of their knuckles

palms stitched with divinatory lines, the braid of their wrists

the poor pulley of their arms, slack to their hips

 

their chests (flowering lungs

their upper arms, the current rinsing the skin on their shoulders

 

marbling napes

their chins

 

their lips

varicose solvencies flooding the brain

with every opening to speak

 

in calling each other

 

close

 

 

their ears

lopped

 

weight upon a stone

 

 

their noses collapsed

with the redolent lance of eucalyptus—

 

      there was a time      the trees were young and supportive

 

 

eyes white with cataracts

epilated lashes, brows

 

 

the horizon

stretching      thin

mist rises

 

where their foreheads spore the banks

 

hair fanning out

on the water      

 

bulbs      roots      old smoke veiling shore stones

 

 

where

 

are their heads      what

may I rest my head      my hands

upon      of them                       

 

o      

 

 

The guards found me wrapped in an ameroid bladder

seized with the enormity of flesh

spoiling in squamous pasturage

to the trigoneureter, urethra and bulwark

 

the tastelessness of flesh upon a ravaged tongue

the taste of flesh to an eroding brain

abraded buds on a ravaged tongue

the removal of the tongue entirely

the enormity of the vacant hole

 

a waxen rose, intemperance of red

 

while overhead

weather planes angling through the contrails

double droning a negative sky   

 

o      

 

 

Inside of the nucleus of the Atomium

 

every surface

 

is a mirror

 

I see my family in

 

though I never learned

 

any of their names

 

for fear they would have changed my course

 

 

my shadow

             wake

the disembodied

 

 

White umbrellas gaining earth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE INLAND SEA

 

 

 

grow open my mouth

 

spectering that I speak

as I speak a sea forms

 

 

 

           in mid stricken air

 

the sky permitting itself

                                      inside

at once

            of me, and out—

                 

 

 

waves, a procession of waves

drawing back, piles of stone, piles of stone

drawn, skinning

the sky cast

       I try to reach  

with my dry hand, to turn the flame

though merely tear the filament

opening not of flesh, but sand

 

 

 

I don’t remember seeing you

 

I don’t even remember when I first saw you

 

 

 

 


TYPO 10