[Author Nukeletter. damnedest things, the nukes say]

world heritage sites
world horror-tage sites
fifty four nukes and counting.

*****
before death pilgrimage –
for purification –
fifty four nukes.
*****
free trips to Japan.
ancient temples, shrines.
contamination.
*****
jumping Japan –
frying pan to fire –
fifty four nukes.
*****
pure Japanese culture –
cesium, strontium
plutonium ku.
*****
Shinto priests cannot
decontaminate this land –
nuke money here, there.
*****
article 9
renounces war – no more bombs –
radiation okay!

*****

[This scroll-like series of Scott Watson's Nukeletters, written by the poet, writer, editor and publisher, is presented unedited and in its ongoing entirety here at Word Pond. One Nukeletter will be posted each successive day through the completed set of 14 to date. Beyond that, a Nukeletter will be posted as soon as it becomes available. Scott Watson lives in Sendai, Japan. All rights are  © Scott Watson. Word Pond  is deeply grateful for the author's permission to share this remarkable series.]

Coming Home. (Preparing for a trip back to USA.)
give us your
huddled masses
*****
will radiation on my passport break their
machine?
*****
is it okay to bring this
contaminated body into
pure US of A?
*****
I have no gun but am I
a radiation threat?
will tough guy TSA
break my head like
huddled masses poor?
will they shout and scream
“get on your knees!” “get on the floor!”
left leg on red, right hand on orange?
will everything I say be twisted
if I swear to tell the truth
in a nation at lie with itself?
*****
go ahead and frisk me.
be sure to wash after.
sue me later.
*****
Iʼll understand if you donʼt kiss me,
hug me, touch me. this poemʼs
for you.
*****
TOO LATE
warning!
these
words set down by a
man dying may be
contagious.
donʼt read them!
*****
mother scolds a contami-
nated child for pissing in a
contaminated stream.
*****
radioactive
haiku light as air
we breathe

[This scroll-like series of Scott Watson's Nukeletters, written by the poet, writer, editor and publisher, is presented unedited and in its ongoing entirety here at Word Pond. One Nukeletter will be posted each successive day through the completed set of 14 to date. Beyond that, a Nukeletter will be posted as soon as it becomes available. Scott Watson lives in Sendai, Japan. All rights are  © Scott Watson. Word Pond  is deeply grateful for the author's permission to share this remarkable series.]

— William Sorlien
Haiku Bandit Society
Red Dragonfly

:

The white palace

white on the black lake

lingam and yoni

:

As the goddess does the god

night has encircled me

:

The cool veranda

You are boundless, boundless

but surveyable

:

The stars they’re inhuman

This hour though is ours

:

Falling I rise

Burning I grow wet

Do you have only one body?

:

Birds skimming the water

Dawn comes to my eyelids

:

Filled with thoughts

immense as death itself

the marble looms over you

:

Palaces run aground

their whiteness is adrift

:

Women and children

roam through the street

fruit scattered about

:

Flashy rags or lightening?

A procession on the plain

:

Cold and jingling

on their wrists and ankles

bands of silver

:

In a rented suit a guy

goes to his wedding

:

Clean and draped to dry

among the stones clothes

you watch in silence

:

On the island monkeys

with red asses are screaming

:

Sun dim in the heat

Hanging from the wall

a wasp’s nest

:

My face is also the sun

of blackened thoughts

:

Flies and blood

fill the courtyard of Kali

A young goat flits about

:

Eating from the same plate

gods and men and beasts

:

Over the pale god

the black goddess

dances headless

:

Heat and the hour splits open

These rotting mangoes

:

Your face a lake

smooth, without thoughts

Out splashes a trout

:

Afternoon’s gone

Lights kindle over the water

:

A rippling in

the golden plain and a grotto

Your clothes nearby

:

Over your body in the shade

I am like a lamp

:

A scale made of

living bodies bound together

over the void

:

The water sustains us

The sky overwhelms us

:

I open my eyes

How many trees were born

just last night

:

What I’ve seen and wanted to say

the white sun blots out

:

:

El Dia en Udaipur translated by Chris Gordon
antantantantant’s blog

tsunami of lies from as soon as there was anything to know.

the sound of one truth that drowns everything out roaring fluid wall that is as

high as existence itself. arisen to roll again is seabottom gunk with a bobbing

wreckage flotilla of shopping malls and meat coli colas that break into our being

interiorly undecorating everything with misery. everything earthly

whirlpools into convenience stores of science, turned and tossed,

imprisoned in cold turbulence that purges ease and relaxation.

land sea and sky are unlivable. nothing is edible–not even ourselves.

nor a drop in albatross geiger dystopia counting consecrated beef

(they’re not even called steer anymore because there is nothing

uncontaminated to navigate by–not even stars).

[This scroll-like series of Scott Watson's Nukeletters, written by the poet, writer, editor and publisher, is presented unedited and in its ongoing entirety here at Word Pond. One Nukeletter will be posted each successive day through the completed set of 14 to date. Beyond that, a Nukeletter will be posted as soon as it becomes available. Scott Watson lives in Sendai, Japan. All rights are  © Scott Watson. Word Pond  is deeply grateful for the author's permission to share this remarkable series.]

street art attributed at Feel Desain

 Feel Desain

Language is the atmospheric anomaly our fingers and tongues make happen | HTMLGIANT.

Life with hubby: Shinzan shrine naked pilgrimage festival.