Poetry

A Poem about the Umeda Sky Building

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Baily’s Beads

The Osaka Sky Building sheltered us from almost nothing.

A man in a sombrero playing the harp and assorted smells and signs,

both Japanese and Spanish, greeted us.

An unhappy cardboard cactus with a mustache told us the prices

were not worth paying, and looking at the oddly translated quesadilla sign

we agreed and slipped away to a convenience store,

musing whether or not people in Japan ever ordered a taco and got tako

or ordered tako and got a taco,

or if anyone ever made a tako taco just for fun.

The idea made us laugh and flinch as we climbed forty stories to the sky in a machine.

Lights freckled the city as we stood on its nose and I knew I was caught between;

lost or found, I didn’t know.

We didn’t stay at the top long;

it was pretty but cold.

The descent from one building to another started slow;

the escalator was glass, echoing the music from below.

I gripped the sides and tried not to imagine

an earthquake,

plucking me from the sky.

Ears popping we arrived on the ground, and found

that rain had made the festival a community.

Ignoring the haven inside the building, everyone huddled under the roof,

watching a Mexican mariachi band with Japanese dancers.

We giggled in our corner as Captain Jack Sparrow tried to join them.

I felt the loss of opportunity as I tried to film everything.

When I would return here the stage would be replaced by a tree with lights flashing to the sound of The Beatles, the balloon Tequila bottle would transform into a small army of trolls, the 700 yen burritos would become 700 yen sausages, the tents with Mexican flags to gingerbread houses, September would be November, and it would be a German Christmas.

The cold would be as invisible as the rain was, and I would chance the escalator one more time.

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2 thoughts on “A Poem about the Umeda Sky Building

  1. Pingback: A November Christmas in Umeda – a photo blog | An Inkling

  2. Pingback: Inktober + Japanese Mythology : Week 3 | An Inkling

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