You zip me
into a pink and white wetsuit
squashing my boobs:
it belonged to Saiichi’s ex
half-American and 173 centimetres tall
you cup my head
it’s smaller
than a Japanese
how young I look
in my summer cap
you attach me
to a board
---
pull me by a cord
behind your jet-ski
I weigh more than the 45 kilos of a
Japanese lady
struggle to balance
your friends applaud
as I plummet
into the Tenryu river
how lucky they found me a wetsuit!
we drink Asahi
eat mackerel
round a disposable barbecue
Sister-in-law
Machiko
tells a story
about your ex
--
her friend
a high school teacher
who she says was kawaii – pretty
she knows I understand
cleaning up after lunch
is a group activity
but there are too many hands
I’m left to observe
bowing
thanking each other
for taking care of one another
people are hesitant
to leave first
bow again say sumimasen – Thank You
--
Sorry
--
Apologies
even though we’re in Crocs and shorts
have peed in the estuary
and peeled off sodden wetsuits
so awkwardly
behind car doors
Special Commendation, the 2020 Oxford Brookes International Poetry Prize
