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I. Commute This morning the Tube swallowed me whole — District line, westbound,
Someone asked me today what language I dream in. I said: both, and neither, and they nodded like...
On the Yamanote Line, 11 p.m., I count the stations by their sound— Yūrakuchō, Shimbashi,...
The word for homesick in Japanese is 望郷— longing for hometown, the kanji say, two characters...
Someone asks me where I'm from and I say the Piccadilly Line between Earl's Court and Hammersmith,
the long flight
back and
back again
you can never return
to the same airport twice
they renovate the gates
repaint the signs
hire new staff with bright vests
who do not remember your face
okaeri she said
welcome home
but I was already
calculating departure times
language is a house
with too many rooms
I live in the hallway
light from both ends
belonging nowhere
fluent in doorways
---
London rain tastes different
than Tokyo rain
or maybe
I just learned
to close my mouth
I translate loneliness
eight hours a day
from one alphabet to another
as if changing the script
could change the weight
some nights
I write emails
in the language
I do not send them in
the deleted drafts folder
is the most honest room
in my entire house
#poetry #identity #displacement #bilingual
