4 views
At the Obon Festival (Angel City 9)
A trip to the bathroom
merits a crisis.
I don't recognize
the man in the mirror.
Who is he?
American?
Jew?
Japanese?
No matter where he goes,
He doesn't quite fit in.
The wall of people
closes in,
Strange faces
that seem familiar,
Yet aren't.
Are they sinister?
They watch him
with suspicious eyes.
Splashing water
on his weathered face,
He contemplates his role
in the grand scheme of things,
Feeling the strain,
Yet not knowing
how to shake it off.
@thewaywardpoet
#summer #Japan #Japanese #myheritage #festivals #identity #crisis #poetry #spontaneousprose
© All Rights Reserved
merits a crisis.
I don't recognize
the man in the mirror.
Who is he?
American?
Jew?
Japanese?
No matter where he goes,
He doesn't quite fit in.
The wall of people
closes in,
Strange faces
that seem familiar,
Yet aren't.
Are they sinister?
They watch him
with suspicious eyes.
Splashing water
on his weathered face,
He contemplates his role
in the grand scheme of things,
Feeling the strain,
Yet not knowing
how to shake it off.
@thewaywardpoet
#summer #Japan #Japanese #myheritage #festivals #identity #crisis #poetry #spontaneousprose
© All Rights Reserved
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