A Day in the Life

Not a collision, more a brush. Instinctively back-pedaling, I dropped my time-card.
Uttering neither Japanese nor English, I said it all.
Of her sweet-scented lines I picked up and hung up at, ‘Shinpai nai’
Gotta work on that.
Descending, for every month here 5/4/3/2……….I wiped my eyes, walked out catching a distorted reflection. Is it true that if new born babies don’t get hugged that they die?
Wrapped in humidity, breathing in tomorrow’s new regime an old comfort.
I were a city kid before.
Now I have an addiction to neon and obsession with ‘groundbreakers’- sky scraper siblings who’d rather hide than boast to no one. They let you ghost across the city without coming up for air.

Off the train (on time, you knew that), the housewife sweeping the road cleans one particular spot with vigour. Ah, home neat home. The bag containing my 2 new Japanese study books looks like it will leave a red mark on my hand.
Kicking off my shoes, the books go down in a heap with the unread others. Rushing to put on the air conditioning, the DVD player fires up and a hail of remotes pierce the floor. A slither snakes its way from neck to the small of my back.
The empty fridge takes the chance to goad me into drowning my opportunities-things really are more hi-tech here I groan.
Behind the singing traffic lights is a bar I’ve been wanting/planning/meaning/thinking about going to. Carefully dipping my dignity into the bathwater, I duck the lamps and slide the door quietly.

The barman welcomes then blanks me. Too late. Committed.
Focusing, there’s one other guy at the bar. Suited to weariness, he a modern day Atlas propping up an economy that pays me 35 bucks an hour. Hmm reminds me of guy back home who used to quote Shakespeare then forget where he put his drink.
Watakushi wa………I order a beer. And another. Atlas is drinking with someone, must be Prometheus, a new liver wouldn’t make him feel any better either. When the beer loses taste I give up ease dropping. Optimistically checking my phone and thinking of home. The barman is busy. Not a collision, more of a knock.
All eyes on me, ‘Shinpai nai’.
Prometheus gestures either come here or go away with a ‘Hurrohowareyouimfinethankyouandyou?’ Then a bleary eyed ‘mo ippai?’
Instinct takes over, ‘onegaishimasu’

-Tokyo Joe

( Live in Tokyo, Japan )