I want to write you a letter. Email me three words at austinrbeaton@gmail.com and I will.
This poem is a part of Japan6, available to purchase in July. Read another sixth of the set here.
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A Japan train 30 seconds late enacts stations to prints slips of papers with apologies for employees to give bosses. Train here to there to here. Few cars. Train home. Every station has a little jingle. Train to work. Don’t take more space than outside your body frame. Sit this way, stand that. Below, listen to how a train thinks:
Dear Human, Sincerely, Train
Ask too many questions
you’ll devolve all of us
thin into telephone cables.
You’re too many chemicals
to be wondering why wondering
enough seasons will evaporate
language. As I am an engine
I don’t fuck with lies, the truth. 260
/kmh. That toddler couldn’t know
Japan lost one war. This before
you, your parents touristed the
temples, 100 yen onigiri, smell
of sesame oil. You’re shocked
the only city could be this quiet
I wanted to translate to English
but instead kept going.