We were on the Tea Cup Ride listening to the murmuring of tide. Continuing to rotate around the teapot with lullaby. The delightful tea time had just begun. You put a silk flower crown on short bob hair, and shouted innocently.
― Help! Help! Help! ―
It was the reverberation of delight.
Deck chairs on the coast are folded and piled up. I buy a gelato and a map at kiosk in funfair of the off season. The map shows the location of the wharf along the coast. There are Roller Coaster and Helter Skelter at the tip of the wharf. What is there beyond the sea? There will be a strange land beyond the sea. The land where I have never gone. And the land will be everlasting. Beside the kiosk, there is a photo booth for instant pictures which can be taken portraits with the background selected. I press the button of Jurassic Park.
1, 2, 3.
After the flash, a picture of me with half closed eyes which is eating gelato and attacked by dinosaurs falls to my knees. As I open the curtain, a foreign family on vacation is waiting for the booth vacant. A little boy rushes in front of the camera.
1, 2, 3.
The laughter of the boy and his parents bubbles. Pictures failed to be photographed are scattered on the sandy beach where the tide went out. The hat in the act of picking something up from the floor. The index finger on the lips for concealing embarrassment. Puzzled face which cannot fit into a member of Take That. Lovers who are not in focus. Yes, the last picture is us. You are almost in tears. My profile is sulky by a dispute over a trifle.
― Are you a man of factory? ―
The foreigner speaks to me.
― No, I am a traveler. I have been here several times. ―
I recall that I was drifting from town to town on the railways. And I arrived at the shore.
― Aren’t you driving a car? You are rare in this town. Toyota, Nissan, Suzuki, Kawasaki… ―
He says the names of Japanese car companies which he knows as much as possible. Mitsubishi, Subaru, Matsuda, Honda, Daihatsu… I remember that I counted the container trains running to the west on the platform at the station.
1, 2, 3, …… 23, 24, …… 31, ……
― Help! ―
A scream of the little boy falls from the sky. Baby! His mother waves towards the Roller Coaster. The days are getting longer. But I feel like summer will not come.
Tea table began to move like a Merry-Go-Round. You were frolicking and boiling in the steam from tea cup. The strong sun in the summer burned your silk flower crown. I increased the speed of Tea Cup Ride with handle. Spin fast. Faster. Before the sun sets. Faster, faster.
Somewhere over the Rainbow…
The music box was also turning quickly. Our tea cup swam the universe by the planetary gear mechanism.
― Your mind is always somewhere else. ―
In a cup slowly slowing down, you suddenly fell apart like a sugar cube melting into the tea. Then you gazed at an empty tin can of the Lemon Drops.
hiromi suzuki is a poet, artist living in Tokyo, Japan. The author of Ms. cried, 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (kisaragi publishing, 2013), logbook (Hesterglock Press, 2018) and INVISIBLE SCENERY (Low Frequency Press, 2018). Her works are published internationally in Otoliths, BlazeVOX, Empty Mirror, Hotel, Burning House Press, DATABLEED, MOONCHILD MAGAZINE, Hotel, talking about strawberries all of the time, Mookychick, Coldfront, RIC Journal and 3:AM Magazine. More work can be found at hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com.
*Quotation: Over the Rainbow
Song by Judy Garland, 1939
Lyrics by Yip Harburg
Music by Harold Arlen