--Miles Davis and the Japanese--

KIJIMA Hajime

I listened to

your trumpet sounds

feeling sweet at the break of the deep hard

strata

with a rock drill inside a long

tunnel

peaceful beyond deafening roars

Yes, I listened to

glitterings at the drilling point

facing the rock bed -- loneliness

perhaps the most unbreakable

And I envisioned

from your spirited lips

fiery snows pouring into our widened

pores

into us favoring the games played

in earnestness

What did you see

in the peoples' smiles of our islands?

Kids curiously

looking around restlessly who were

once spirited off?

Or the sweet yet ugly devils

nurtured under the virtue of passiveness

always stuttering and mumbling?

Or those who admire the flying way of

the Chinese phoenix

-- masks of gods and godesses of evil

in utter indifference?

Anyway you must have seen

SOMETHING not existing in Benin or

Toledo

in these islands where Mt. Fuji suffers

from its indigestion

Soon as your trumpet resounds

I was shocked to hear a British girl say

Now as ever I experience an elixir rising

when you become an

edged axis of dreams

challenging to run the gamut