brandy

These sea slugs by kobayashi issa


These sea slugs,

they just don't seem

Japanese. 

and it rained in the sea. it rained sand. fine and white it rained down in slow motion. the more it fell on us, the drier we got. it sanded for thirteen days, thirteen nights and it went nowhere. it stayed right there on our heads and in our ears. in our mouths. my tongue was sticking to my finroof. i tried to read because i could not leave the shelter of the shell, but it was difficult to read in these conditions, because the letters on the pages melted and disappeared, vowels first, starting from the back, with 'u'. i could see pieces of mist falling into the water all around me and sink slowly to the bottom. if i touched it, it would sparkle profusely and i could collect it and bunch it up or pull it apart or make shapes out of it. every time it was touched, it lit up brightly for a few seconds and then slowly the sparkles would die down and the mist became just mist once more and settled on the ocean floor. i made a turban for my head and where i touched the mist, i lit up like a christmas tree. every now and then a curious goldfish would nose about it and sparks flew, but mostly it just tickled and off the fish would go again, out looking for something more interesting to play with than my head. the rest just lay motionless on the bottom of the sea and i soon got tired of watching static mist cloths. fishes were shy in weather like this. who could blame them? i thought i would lend sanctuary to lost sea slugs, but they were slow in coming by. sometimes i would notice one huddling beneath the fin of a hammer head, but more often than not they just floated by my face, resigned looks on their tight little faces. we waved at each other. the desert was filling up the ocean and still the storm did not subside. i noticed the overall depth of the water decrease. i had experienced this phenomenon once before. 

still it rained sand. i watched the ocean sky, pouring, pouring. concern