FUJITOMI YASUO

A caged crow:

slowly its tension released

caw caw it chuckles.

Gently the cage door opens

and in the corridor stands

the black woman, now transformed.

Seems like everyone's sleeping,

faintly snoring.

Off the walls, snoring echoes:

I am having a great success today.

Her face is stuck on

Deep breath:

first she goes to the kitchen refrigerator.

Beady-eyed, she peeps inside

and again nothing but bad manners.

She takes out beer

and cheese,

at the table stately sits the queen.

Throat cackle-like lone supper.

From the plumbing's snakemouth,

a cute water drop drops.

If its time is past living things

thus spontaneously morph into god's providence.

Such gibberish;

that'll be all today.

Looking through the window

moon's rays slantwise inserted

the black woman's noire costume brings out the luster.

The reflection on herself - graceful figure --

when she forgets herself.

Who's there someone shouts out loud

walking off without hesitating

she in night's darkness flew away.