Believe it or not, there is a live venue which is not soundproofed on the ground floor of my apartment, country and western music have been played every night. I have no knowledge of this music genre, so the bass guitar echoing from the downstairs and the high frequency of the steel guitar are uncomfortable for me. Only once, I understood Stand by Me. It was recognized by the chord of bass guitar, not a melody. So I sang in conformity to the chord of bass guitar.
“When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we see
If I will gently open the curtain and look up at the full moon in the valley of the buildings, the vampire or the wolf man may appear. ― you are not alone. However, who knocked on the door of my room was the Frankenstein’s monster.
― Noisy, I can not sleep!
Frankenstein’s monster in a nightgown putting an aquarium on his wide shoulder was standing.
― If you have a complaint, tell it to the club owner or front desk. I am a victim too.
I was just about to call them.
― No, your voice! You are singing cheerfully alone, but noisy! I am a dead body and am in bad mood. I despaired of a human being. I will back to my grave tomorrow. I leave this with you.
I saw you in a monochrome television a long time ago. Like a paparazzi chasing the Hollywood celebrity, I was about to ask for his handshake. Yes, you are right. Though you were sleeping peacefully on the boat floating through the midnight, your grave was digged up by the mad scientist. ― The ugly monster! Terrible face! Also body is full of seams… ― People were afraid of you. But you wanted to fall in love. Is it wrong?
― This was my wife.
Frankenstein’s monster caressed the aquarium that the goldfish swims gracefully. The goldfish was a gorgeous Ranchu acting an insensitive charm in the blue light of the LED.
The next morning, Frankenstein’s monster left the apartment after loading a large suitcase and the drained aquarium in taxi. I looked at him through the peephole of my door, it was not a dream. I think he will do remarriage with his fiancée at his hometown, because the back of the giant in a tuxedo is walking on the red carpet of the corridor headed for the elevator. When I back to bed, Ranchu is ashamed of the bumps on her head under the blanket, and narrowing her eyes with sunshine. My index finger pats the delicate scale of her body gently.
“What did this mean?
Who was I?
What was I?
Whence did I come?
What was my destination?
― You are my sweet darling.
She whispers the tricky words as her habit.
*1. Stand by Me (Ben E. King, 1961)
*2. Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus (Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, 1918)
*Ranchu (en. Lionhead goldfish)
Goldfish which improved for enjoyment of viewing.
Fish bodies without dorsal fin, chubby figure, bumps of head are characterized.
hiromi suzuki is a poet, artist living in Tokyo, Japan. A member of “gui” (run by members of “VOU” group of poets, founded by the late Katsue Kitasono). Author of Ms. cried, 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (kisaragi publishing, 2013 ISBN978-4-901850-42-1). Her works are published internationally in Otoliths, BlazeVOX, Empty Mirror, Experiment-O, M58, DATABLEED, Black Market Re-View, Burning House Press, h&, BRAVE NEW WORD magazine, DODGING THE RAIN, Jazz Cigarette, TAPE HISS zine, The Arsonist Magazine, MOONCHILD MAGAZINE, Parentheses Journal, Angry Old Man Magazine, Coldfront Magazine, 3:AM Magazine, Obra/Artifact, Utsanga.it magazine, NationalPoetryMonth.ca 2015 / 2017, and Poem Brut at Rich Mix London 2017, amongst other places.
Her latest book of visual poetry, logbook (Hesterglock Press, 2018 ISBN 978-1-9999153-1-5).
web site: hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com
Twitter : @HRMsuzuki
Image from Carnival of Souls (Public Domain)