A neon night near Ueno Station,
Cheapside at a bitter inn.
The proprietor's smirk
as he checks for our wedding rings
makes me ashamed to wear one.
Uncertainties and jealousies
accumulated in weeks on the road
overflow the mean space, will not fit our luggage
in the the small hours
while train whistles wish one away.
All night the sound and shake of hard tracks,
the cars halting with screams,
departing with moans –
hounds grown weary to death
but do not sleep.
None of the usual generosity
burns off the gloom
of that cramped room,
insufficient for
the breath of two freedoms.
Japan, 10/94