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3:30 pm. On the back street of Kōenji, bunny girls dancing on a signboard coloured with magenta dry the pavement.
<< Lele Ukulele / B1 >>
To escape from the sudden rain, Gene Kelly slips into Lele Ukulele so casually.
At the café, a monochrome photograph of Paris is decorated on the wall. There are many bridges on the Seine. There are 4 or 5 boats anchored on the riverbank.
There are people living on the water.
I murmur aloud.
Reading the fall issue of ELLE in late summer makes me sad. I am sure the model in a fur coat running through the cobbled street is sweaty in the dazzling blue sky and strong summer sunshine. She hides her face in knit cap, puts her hands into pockets and shrugs her shoulder at the port of Stockholm. I turn the pages pretending to be deceived in winter. Seeing the shades of summer left behind the winter that overflow one after another from ELLE makes me sad. In the same, I might be disappointed to see the sunlight through the dark filter in a downpour scene on an old film.Lovers getting wet in the rain hesitate to say goodbye, and wait for the last train. Only the particles of the sunshine reflecting in the artificial rain are bright and sad. The train does not come easily. Two are left behind the light and time. Funny. And sad.
Who does windsurf in such shallows?
I remember that I murmured aloud.
I went to the sea on this summer vacation. On the beach crowded with bathers, the sails lying down like the swordfish scattered the sand. I shook the sand off my hemp dress. Then a sudden shower compelled me to take shelter in a lodge. As the door opened, an owner of the lodge in a tanned smile invited me, please come in. A flashy cocktail with pineapples and cherries was put on the table. When I was gazing the corner of dim lounge, I heard a thunder in the distance. The owner laughed and said, just the juice.
Why can some people live without worrying about the direction of the flow? Why can some people wait for the good wind forever?
I murmur aloud.
The sunny rain playing a prelude with arpeggio cleaned the dust and anxiety on the street in a moment. I feel the scent of autumn in the wind. The signboard coloured in magenta lights up. Gene Kelly comes out of Lele Ukulele. He is dancing and singing around a telegraph pole. Like his film.
Why am I smiling
And why do I sing?
Why does September
Seem sunny as spring?
Why do I get up
Each morning and start?
Ah, bunny girl.
I murmur aloud.
A rabbit in a fake fur coat runs through the sky of weather forecast map.
hiromi suzuki is a poet, novelist and artist living in Tokyo, Japan. She is the author of Ms. cried – 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (Kisaragi Publishing, 2013), logbook (Hesterglock Press, 2018), INVISIBLE SCENERY (Low Frequency Press, 2018), Andante (AngelHousePress, 2019). Her works have been published internationally in poetry journals, literary journals and anthologies.
Web site: https://hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com
*Quotation: Singin’ in the Rain (Additional Verse)
Song by Gene Kelly, 1952
Lyrics by Arthur Freed
Music by Nacio Herb Brown
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