oh Ishiura,
why won’t you eat your fish broth?
you are so tiny
the McLaren sponsorship
claims you both are light, speedy
but this is not a
car race, Ishiura, it’s
giant men thrusting
these are not refined pistons
of lightest aluminum
your super sleek lime
green McLaren’s not smashing
into coal mine trucks
fish broth or sports car? - perhaps
cultural question’s at hand
young Ishiura
perhaps doesn’t recognize
fish broth’s tradition
(I am projecting here, from
outside, as life scientist)
an island nation
literally surrounded
by the sea (and fish)
at one point in history,
this meant secluded culture
now is not that time -
globalization has made
the whole world the same
not entirely, but enough
so that I watch same day sumo
my chunk of rural
America is known for…
I don’t even know
we used to have tobacco,
and slavery, and work
I don’t smoke, have no
interest in slaves, and hate
working for most part
Ishiura has
rejected traditional
bulk of his fish broth
Ishiura instead has
accepted sports car promise
Raven Mack rejects
tobacco and well-defined
class roles and “real” work
Raven Mack instead watches
sumo wrestling and writes words
in sumo context,
tiny Ishiura appears
an annoying gnat
he flies round as Aioyama
swats him away with broth hands
despite this fish broth
disdain, Ishiura has
never ranked higher
his sports car sleek sumo style
has achieved some successes
but is there time for
sports car to overtake fish
broth before the end?
another chunk of ice shelf
broke off, adding to sea’s broth
continue our mad
float towards oblivion,
all fish broths be damned
where I sit, slavery is
gone, so is farming, and “work”
work has no purpose,
I pretend to produce while
waiting to go home
there I watch silly sumo
and write pointless words in bulk
my sports car escape
is this, also rejecting
my needed fish broth
my mind a processed mess of
nutritionless food for thought
I have no thinkpiece
about sumo, fish broth, and
sports car sponsorships
there’s only escapism -
denying reality
outside’s a wasteland,
neighbors fly confederate
flags, my grass is tall
no one sponsors my madness -
pale blue broke down minivan
tomorrow, I’ll drive
back-and-forth to purposeless work,
waste most of my day
get home, consuming cultures
in digital increments
none of this is real -
primordial hearty fish
broth traditions dead
I’m so fucking hungry, but
can’t remember how to cook
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