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My parents cannot hear me, for they have
entered another realm where the pleasures of eternity -
one would hope - have them marked for the rest of their time,
however that may be. I am left behind, as foolishly
confused, sometimes, as a sixth-grader in Biology;
learning the grades of cells and capillaries,
drawn down like an amoeba to the simplest state.
Every gestureless pantomime I make is misunderstood.
The Shinto priest at Mt. Fuji would not understand my
pleadings - I want to be found to have something of value.
The yellow-dog remnant of all that I've done
seems to outlive even the echoes of my lineage.
Grandma, grandpa, great uncle, aunt - each of
their addresses and postboxes are closed.
I cry in grief for nothing.
I cry for nothing at all.
My parents cannot hear me, for they have
entered another realm where the pleasures of eternity -
one would hope - have them marked for the rest of their time,
however that may be. I am left behind, as foolishly
confused, sometimes, as a sixth-grader in Biology;
learning the grades of cells and capillaries,
drawn down like an amoeba to the simplest state.
Every gestureless pantomime I make is misunderstood.
The Shinto priest at Mt. Fuji would not understand my
pleadings - I want to be found to have something of value.
The yellow-dog remnant of all that I've done
seems to outlive even the echoes of my lineage.
Grandma, grandpa, great uncle, aunt - each of
their addresses and postboxes are closed.
I cry in grief for nothing.
I cry for nothing at all.
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