Did you peel fish skin off? The ladies’ earlobes are in the bloated stomach of cod soaked into very old wine. Earlobes that remain putting on the pearl earrings.
People rolling the pearls on their tongues are dancing in a ballroom. Leaning on each other, they breathe quietly through their teeth. Be careful not to spill the sauce containing fruit puree. Guinea Fowl cutlets dress in the tweed coats of the gentlemen.
The juice of raspberries overflows. The drunkards’ calf muscles swim in zigzags at the bottom of the room. The tone of the trumpet tumbles down a spiral staircase without handrails. The skirt in red is swinging. I can hear you.
Hungry and waiting for the room service, a telephone line is monopolized. Spread the map on the bed and trace the flow of the river with index finger. It is me who is doing that. The poached egg for breakfast is the heart of a little king. The sun can be seen through it secretly.
hiromi suzuki is a poet, fiction writer 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), Found Words from Olivetti (Simulacrum Press, 2020). Her works have been published internationally in poetry journals, literary journals and anthologies.web site: https://hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com/Twitter: @HRMsuzuki
Note: Hotel Cactus is a part of the first poetry collection Ms. cried – 77 poems by hiromi suzuki. The collection was written in Japanese and published by Kisaragi publishing of Japanese publisher, 2013. This poetry has been translated by hiromi suzuki, 2021.