Fuck Japan

let's run away to california.
leave the sunshine state
with the biggest grins we've ever had
riding in the back of pick ups and empty train cars
through the cornfields, and then later mountains and desert.
we'll put up christmas lights in june
and tell the jealous winter to fuck itself.
we can hide under boardwalks,
the shadows making our faces striped
and we can be the flesh colored flags of our made up country.
we'll be brothers slipping
through the shadows of billboards and
the impossibly tall buildings can scar us for life.
you can make sushi and i'll
mix the drinks with as many colors as
the sunset against the palms wilting in the too hot heat.
our northern blood can evaporate
and we will carry cameras and empty wallets
slipping into bars and bumming cigarettes
because we know they won't say no.
well have our shoe laces untied
and maybe our socks won't match,
but we fucking will.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem's title & explative use are not to insult Japan, they are the reaction by two people left by two other people that went to Japan.  It's the Gaijins, not the country.  And I tried changing the title, but it changes the whole meaning.  So fuck changing the title too.

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Travis Deplitch's picture

COOL!!

S74rw4rd's picture

The expletive seriously weakens the poem; but, without it, this poem would be incredibly brilliant.


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