Every Morning After Killing Thousands of Angles
—excerpt
1
I read a boy's poem called
" Every Morning After Killing Thousands of Angles"
I forget the poem, but the title won't leave me
I drink some coffee
read a paper read by millions
all the misery
all the destruction in the world
herded into headlines and catch phrases
the only part I trust
is the financial page
a completely blank space governed
by the mechanics of capital and pure speculation
2
That boy's mornings
and my mornings—
how are they different?
3
But the boy can see the angels' faces
by Ryuichi Tamura
from The Vintage Book of Contemporary World Poetry
Vintage Books, 1996
translation from Japanese by Christopher Drake
.