People Born of Lines

1　Person (人)
The character for “person” looks so feeble
Doesn’t have a brain, isn’t wearing any shoes
If it had hands, it could light a fire
But can’t produce light or warmth on its own
What can a person who does nothing do?
Stand on the sand and gaze at the sea
Like the white hare of Inaba
Its skin might be torn off by a crocodile
Might be thrown on a pile of firewood to be burned at the stake
Society seeks an unending supply of human sacrifice
They say the energy released when a body burns is clean and 　
　natural

Does the character for “person” look like it is walking
Or does it seem to stand transfixed?

2　Tree (木)

The character 丁 stretches straight up the length of its spine
Eventually it will strike the softness of clouds
It describes the moment when　　it thinks
There is no need to go　　any higher than this
And so people become trees
Plum trees with crooked spines, covered in bumps
They say plants are in forms that mammals developed
They make cultures of color and form from just light, water and carbon dioxide.
They do not eat unnecessarily, that is the reason why they can live
Without excreting foul-smelling waste from their gut
Instead of building houses, they give their own bodies as homes
To the caterpillars, to the woodpeckers, to the squirrels

3　Water (水)

If ascending to the heavens is the work of a pilot
Then falling from the heavens is the work of an angel
Water, too, is a trickle of good angels
That falls and falls, down from the stitches of the clouds
Onto the wet mirror of the highway
Pelting down onto shoulders
Breaking into droplets
The road collects the drops and hastens into a river
Bending, winding　　scraping away the banks where people live
Carrying earth and sand
It carves away, leaving the face of the earth in relief

4　Rice (米)

A heap of stars served up in a rice bowl
The pointed tips of light
Sweetly prick the tongue of those who eat it
A refreshing breeze flows in behind the backs of their eyes
What up until just now looked to be spots on the wall is in fact seven mosquitoes,
　　the hair of their legs clearly visible
They say eating star rice lets you see far into the distance
See a small child with a nosebleed, thirty kilometers away, playing with a crab
See the window of an unmanned bank, three years away, snapping open and shut in the wind

5　Dog (犬)

A man　　squatting at the edge of a cliff
Pats his dog’s head, flat as a plate, with his left hand
He sticks out his right hand and lets it gently bite
Gazes at the palm, drenched in drool
Takes the collar from the dog’s neck and replaces it with a wreath of flowers
Suddenly throws his arms around it
Presses his cheek to the dog’s eyes
Tears well up
Holds the dog’s head tight with both arms
And then
Thrusts the dog　　into the bubbling lava of the volcano below

6　Big (大)

It would seem that “beauty” (美) is a big (大) sheep (羊)
It would seem that the bigger the living sacrifice, the smaller the calamity
Shaken by the slightest of breezes　　a big umbrella’s frame quickly bends
It seems that people in concentration camps died in order of height, starting with the tallest
Big people eat small people
Big countries hate small countries
Big mice respect small elephants

7　Thick (太)

Dawn melts into dusk
An age will come when warmth and cold mean the same thing
If you walk slowly, the station feels closer
A single senbei will fill our stomachs
The moment I think I’m done with writing, out of nowhere a poem appears on the page

8　Yet (未)

I can still speak, now, to people who are not yet dead
Inside my abdomen, organs I have not yet touched
Someone I have not yet met consoles me, stricken by a sorrow that has 　
　　　not yet visited me
The language I use then, I have not yet begun to learn
The poems I have not yet written are always already written
In the distant future of the Earth that I cannot yet imagine
　　　I hope that creatures other than humans will be happier

9 End (末)

At the end of the sleeve is a sensitive hand
At the end of the hem is a delicate yet strong ankle
At the end of thought is a breath
I raise one foot
Like a crane
Holding a fan, I spread my left hand like a wing
changing from person into bird
from bird into letters

10 Come (来)

I don’t know where you stand
Is it where I once stood long ago?
I can hear a voice calling me to come back
But I only want to return to places I haven’t yet been

Originally printed in Mantis 11 (2013)