新聞
NakamuraEmi
As I look at the text on the screen, as I imagine this person I can’t see
I steadily make progress on my work and my coffee steadily dwindles
When I punch the keys on my computer my mom laughs and says
“that sounds like the footsteps of mice,” I quietly laugh as my hand stops
I’m buried in this sound that’s now so ordinary
The sound of rain dripping at daybreak, the sound of the mailman’s bike and of the mailbox
It somehow sounds special and I opened the mailbox with a scrunched up face
The paper had a bag wrapped around it, they were probably sopping wet while delivering it
That’s all there is to it, that’s all there is to it
I somehow feel like I’m forgetting something important
I remember the nervousness of phoning the house of someone I liked, not knowing who will answer
Checking the map beforehand when going somewhere
Putting the transit’s timetable into my wallet
After that I’d get by just asking the way
If they didn’t come at the time we set, I’d put a message on the station’s message board that I’m going on ahead
People on the train that read the newspaper neatly folded up were kind of cool
Things have steadily gotten more convenient so hassles steadily overflow
But no matter how much time passes the heart of people can’t become convenient
Most of the lines drawn in “education” started to become “corporal punishment”
The age in which neighbors were friends, the age in which we worry about human relations
What’s that, what’s that? With these eyes I’ve seen that borderline
What’s that, what’s that? Those “valuable things”
Something like cooking, like the radio, like a record perhaps
Although I’d be alone in my room it was like I felt the presence of someone and had chatted
Something like a letter, like the newspaper, like a fountain pen perhaps
Although I’d be alone it was like I felt the presence of someone and had chatted
I’m probably in the last generation that’ll know an age without cellphones
Your labor becomes sincere
As I think about that, I place the newspaper that I took from its bag and finished reading
on the floor and use it as a plate for my cat’s snack
© Shane D. Anderson 2015. All rights reserved.