AROUND-THE-CLOCK FIREBOX CARE
Mother unfolds the polyvinylidene
chloride wrap,
sealing fragments from the roll
onto my container mouth.
Steel wheels on steel trains friction,
my lungs blackened by creosote,
build-up in the flue pipe.
My vocal cords uprooted like a corkscrew,
amid a railway brake,
for a scenic view of the Nishiki River.
Levitating neonate stabilizer prototype,
a high-speed cupronickel,
hundred-yen coins.
The key subsonic wind tunnel
turns blue.
Barefoot, the defunct cuckoo
chirps the curfew.
Thus my radially constructed wings
are trapped in a Saran capsule toy.
Sailor Moon, Eren Yaeger, and Kaneda
steam a delayed sly leer,
while Hachiko’s paws
unchain my cylinder vault.
In a pink ribbon-shaped tunnel,
an anthropomorphized white cat
with a red bow and no visible mouth
clutches my feet with chopsticks.
Thereupon my freight of hyoid bone,
holding to a raw kanji handrail,
a commute to the one-way platform.