Sunday 11 December 2016

The idealized box

As a child, by trial and error, I learned “if A, then B”.
If my hand touched things this way, they moved that way.
My action seemed to cause specific reactions, which made me want it happened again and again.
For only a moment of the touch, things were as if in darkness lit up together with me, and I wanted it to be lasted.
The round warm lights came to last, one by one enlarged the world of me, and grew to a bright square box, which began to slide, carrying me.
The inside had to be pure white, the outside was just a shadow.
The box was supposed to slide smoothly until the end I could not even imagine to grasp.
One day, the mainstay of the box cracked and the box rattled and oppressed me.
Each try to rebuild the mainstay with all my strength went good or bad by chance, while the box as a whole seemed to move down, oddly. It might be toward the end I came to be slightly able to imagine to grasp.
The outside world turned up, now taking a form of rugged rocks with strong shading, in which people were wandering around separately.
The resistance of the mainstay was the response of the real world to me.
Relatively the box became smaller and smaller, finally a boy came in and kicked it up into the air.
Farewell, my idealized box.

(Spoken words poetryのための作品No2.)

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