May 2024
Shaun R. Pankoski
lilyandshaun@gmail.com
lilyandshaun@gmail.com
Bio Note: I am a poet most recently from Volcano, Hawaii. A retired county worker and two time breast cancer survivor, I have lived on both coasts as well as the Midwest as an artist’s model, modern dancer, massage therapist and honorably discharged Air Force veteran. My poems have appeared here and in Gyroscope, Gargoyle, Sheila-na-Gig and others. The poems featured were written during a complicated, first time visit to Japan.
Eavesdropping on a Whole Culture
Egg salad sandwiches from any 7- Eleven in Japan
are cheap and delicious, with cut-off crusts
and yolks so orange you swear you're eating cheese.
The toilet seats are heated, there are no washcloths
or trashcans, but a toothpick is included
inside your wrapped chopsticks.
The temples are commodified,
people dress their dogs up and buy Kirin beer
at six am for the train ride home.
Speaking of trains, no one speaks.
They look down-at a book,
at their phone, at their hands.
Yuzu is a thing. Laundry day is Tuesday.
There are rice paddies, literally, everywhere.
All the men have the same haircut.
And pointy shoes. And wedding rings.
School girls wear navy uniforms
with sailor collars and white ankle socks.
I'm lying in a hotel bed,
breathing hotel air. I could be
anywhere. Until I step outside.
White Heron Castle
He looked at me quizzically
as we strolled through the gardens,
imagining cherry blossoms
instead of bare branches.
The gates were sturdy,
the white plaster glowed.
There were loopholes everywhere.
He wanted to speak of firing platforms,
of stone-dropping holes and weapon racks.
Of lords and shoguns and warriors.
'But what of the women?' I asked.
'The wives and concubines,
the ladies-in-waiting and all
of the children?'
He shook his head sadly,
as it was clear
that I did not understand.
We both looked up at the castle-
brilliant against the blinding blue of the sky,
like a great bird ready to take flight.
I felt so small.
I Get Another Morning
I fly home from Osaka
in the evening,
watch a sad movie on the plane
as the flight attendant
toggles back and forth
between Japanese and English.
I admire her dexterity.
When I arrive in Honolulu,
it is the morning
of the same day that I left.
I sit in the airport garden,
watch the koi float lazily,
happy to be in their small pond.
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