A Requiem for the Earth

one who dies does not return to life
so we make a memorial day call to the dead person
Issui Yoshida, Samantha and Teruo’s father
all have died
riding on a swan             on a drug           on a glow in the morning sky
each had a different style
but set out on a journey
“write down the memorial day, your own memorial day”
even though you are not yet dead
even though you are still alive
for the sake of your own self that shall be dying            in advance
write a memorial day poem            a requiem
Gozo says
Gozo too is alive
and I am alive too
the others my friends         and their surroundings too
though not quite satisfactory              the earth is still
alive during the time I am alive
a new star is born and disappears
toward a black hole
I will send a requiem for my
living being

a poem in the middle of my life
not yet dead but alive           putting down
the land that has still         ample green
the air that is dirty        but has a sweet life
the ear of a twenty year old young sailor who is to set sail
the black sound that perches          there
with a sweat dripping Stevie’s blind          rainbow voice           inside
to each one of those
before they leave the earth
one should send
a salutation
poem of soul pacifying           a charm for the memorial day

the soul of Miss A says
getting up from the coffin
“Ah, before I noticed I’ve been dead”
to this soul      I turn on the record of
Mary Wells but
to the soul of this bank of the living
now I turn on the music of
Earth, Wind and Fire
the ones who are alive too
death has begun          while being alive
while harmonizing with          fighting        hating
and loving           death that has begun
heads for the beach of the end but

now I can see
many thousands             many tens of thousands of globes
go flying
with frightening speed
toward the cemetery that was dug at the end of the universe
the giant throat of the black hole
the rearview mirror of my thoughts is
a lonely planetarium of a multimillion years ahead
I can see here        in the future
the death not yet         reached death doing an approach run for death
and the death that falls pouring chaotic energy
and the sacred life’s march in the desert of quiet       life
it is not that everything          has died out
they are on the side of the living now
I can see even though this is not hell
the memorial days that hatch in the days of the living
the cemetery that swells daily
I can hear           because this is hell

I shall send a requiem
at first
to the earth in the future         gradually          getting worn out
and heading for death
if a living person         to oneself
gives water while being alive
gives flowers while being alive
gives words         prayer
and love while being alive

I can hear my voice of the thousand years later
tomorrow is
my memorial day
it seems to be        the memorial day