4727. STRONG, PLAIN AND DELICIOUS

STRONG, PLAIN 

AND DELICIOUS
(kobo abe)

I'm reading all this Japanese prose  -  Oe, Murakami, the rest.

It seems so strange : strong, delicious and plain. Like the

memory of an atomic disaster  -  a few bombs (Fat Man)

and a overblown reactor too. What's the difference when

I ain't got you? Read for yourself  -  and get the hell out

of my way. Read 'Norwegian Wood' by Murakami, then

we'll talk  -  sex and panties, panties and sex. The old

guy dies in his hospital bed, muttering about the train

station and then Midori slips out of her bloomers.

Midori means 'green' in Japanese. It's also the name

of a violinist too  -  like I said to the girl in the dog park

whose dog was named 'Midori.' I said 'Where'd the name

come from?' She said, 'It's a liqueur.' I bet, you fucking

drunken whore-bag. But I didn't mention that last part

part, just said, 'Oh, I didn't know,' instead. Things are

like that sometime. And then I wonder  -  how filthy dirty

can I get on a post like this : poetry for the masses, screwing

in their asses, men don't make passes to girls who wear glasses.

What was that? Dorothy Parker never saw Japan, or if she did 

it was only while looking at the window while some guy was

screwing her brains out from behind. Now, back to Japanese 
novelusts  -  see what I mean, see how they make me think, 
see how crazy this shit gets. Gets to this. 
Brings me nowhere. I can't get off.