Pathway to Japanese Literature

Killing’s nothing much.

While thinking this through the crowd
I strode onward—
A certain name I wrote with care—

I meticulously carried out the erasure.

A heart to burn away
Into the eyeball of a woman’s photograph—the pen tip’s
Red ink
I tried injecting
I strangled this lady to death
I wanted to get caught.
Such was the parlor of my thoughts.
In my chest lay a forest of evil.

From time to time,

a woodpecker came and ceaselessly pecked.

＊ ＊ ＊

This evening,

Ah, ah—such an adorable little bird.

My arm throbbed to strangle.

I looked at a well-sharpened razor.

I looked in the mirror.

I tried smiling like a madman.

The person climbing high up the chimney—

If only they would fall.

From the street, I prayed.

"I’ll kill!"
When I said that, I smiled back, "Go ahead."
At that instant, killing intent surged through me.
Someone arrived.
The very act of idle chatter—
it filled me with such rage I longed to murder.
As though privy to this terror within me now,

The stove’s flame

The stove’s flame crumbled and fell.

The pistol spring’s tactile sensation.

This futility!

When mist fell upon the city lights,
embracing a thief's heart,
in a large brick house
he stood night watch.

At such times

I kill people, drink liquor, mock women.

I envy great men.

If I insert a needle into a certain part of the human body,
would it cause instant death?
I ask the doctor.

On a spring night's utility pole

Leaning against it, I thought.

The true heart of one who has killed.

After killing them, I gently close their eyelids.

I long for that heart.

The sound of the winter wind

The pistol’s smoke—
The scent alone felt insufficient—
Watching a magic trick.
Penknife.
Never rusting, never disappearing.
Along with the memory of that death-stricken face

＊ ＊ ＊

The first bastard who came to place incense sticks

Me…………

“………” he said and breathed his last—

The young doctor
said he’d been entrusted with my life
and sneered derisively.

Abruptly
Something collided with me—blood-drenched—
In that pitch-black back alley.

Inside his head—the snap of something breaking.

Eeheeheehee.
……and……the sound of my laughter echoed.
He tried to draw out white milk.
The feeling was that of ripping a dandelion out by the roots.
He looked at her arm.

Inside the coffin.
The dead person yawned quietly.
At that moment，the monk cleared his throat.
He embraced.

In that moment, I always think.

The white bones at the bottom of that quagmire

With a fake pass
I try boarding the train—
a splendid feeling, like a superhuman’s.

From the edge of the blue sky
Eyes wide open—
the guy glaring at my deeds
The carcass of a bicycle
piled in the vacant lot
along with the corpse of one who rode it
From darkness—a blood-soaked monkey

Staggering unsteadily forward.

My conscience.

In prison

Before entering prison and after leaving it—

The same sun shone in the same blue sky.

A white butterfly crossed the railway tracks in the distance.

The train roared past.

Blood-soaked love remains.

I am seeing what must not be seen.

He sneered at my figure.

He turned to look.

In the dead of night

The heart momentarily ceased.

At such times, I see a dream.

Poured medicine over the flowers by the bedside,

Smiled in sleep.

The tubercular girl

The leaves on the warehouse wall

Taking on the form of a ghost

A heart dripping with raw blood

Cut out and left as it is.

＊ ＊ ＊

Today again, the open sea—

So vividly blue and clear.

Someone drowned and died, huh?

At the bottom of the water

The fetus was alive and moving

The mother’s body was being eaten by fish—yet

As dusk approached

It appeared as the blade that would behead me

The prison cell window was dripping with raw blood

That I killed that girl in an empty house and left her there—

No one will know.

Indigo sky.

Along the horizon, clouds resembling slugs appeared.

Even when I tried not to look,

I felt something was off.
A blood-covered face.
Crawling up from the swamp.

The face that my ancestors slashed

The mute woman
She gave birth to a baby from her mouth—gah-ha!

The child grasped the father’s sleeve.

Drag’s wax doll’s

I tried imagining its entire body.

Cold sweat trickled.

The countless people I ran over
Vacantly tracing along the path ahead.

The blackout driver was moving.

And yet there I stood, smugly alone—

In the darkness.

I and I remained glaring at each other with pitch-black intensity

I cannot move.

The woman I had just passed by—

She becomes drenched in blood before my eyes.

Daytime Hallucination

The delusion of vanity—that is love.

I don't need children.

Serves you right!

The pistol glared at my forehead.

Bang, it said.

Aha-ha! Hah!

Day after day,

The shepherd’s purse on the roof of the house across,

The man who had been watching was a madman.

The summer grove stood hushed.

In the hue of a thief’s heart.
The moon tilted.
I threw the Calmotin into the wastepaper basket.
I took it out again.

I stare fixedly.

The fair-skinned beautiful child

Out of some vague urge to torment and see,

I become friends.

＊ ＊ ＊

The dead trees throughout the forest

Not a single bud sprouted,

Sprouted poisonous mushrooms with single-minded fervor.

A wolf—human bones—

Looked back again and again as it departed.

The winter sun sinks.

Specter-like unsettling warmth.

I tried stroking my belly.

Spring night's listless tedium.

Quit the suicide.

While I stared at the wall,

A stifled yawn surfaced abruptly.

The police officer at his post,

Coughed once through phlegm-thick air—

On a frost-laden midnight had I passed,

To Uncle

Sharpen this razor.

The snowy evening when the stepchild comes to use.

The heart that wants to die and the heart that cannot die

They were at odds with each other,

Stepping through fallen leaves, step by step.

The buried corpse was never found.

Sand hill, how quaint.

Blue sky, how quaint.

With stubborn insistence on knowing nothing.

As I went along, it got so absurd that—

A hollow laugh escaped.

Dove into the sea.

In the shadow of red and green rocks, my heart’s—

I listened to the sound.

This face—surely not...

Trying not to look like the criminal,

I peer into the mirror to verify.

A solitary poisonous mushroom

It emitted brown powder.

An autumn day when all things faded so perfectly.

In her chest,

When this dagger was thrust

In a fitting color, the spring sun sank.

A caterpillar writhed beautifully.

The crawling glass bottle’s

Summer evening

＊ ＊ ＊

A feeling of wanting to kill someone

All alone

"Ahahaha!" I laughed uproariously.

At the slaughterhouse.
Darkly, soundlessly, blood dripped.
Under a midday-like full moon,
When the sound of the wind intensified.

Again I remembered

The dagger and hair I had discarded in the ditch

Even if I kill, even if I kill—still not satisfied.

The hateful her—

The mole on the side of the cheek

When the sun shines

The children began to sing.

I crossed my arms.

I contemplate treason.

Thinking I saw something bad,

I return to her room’s—

A plucked butterfly

That my heart cannot go mad—ah, how sorrowful.

Madness compelled me.

I gazed at the whip.

＊ ＊ ＊

O, make men into Buddhas without their waking.

Near the august sword

Swallow reverently

Your eyes were too dear.
That small bird with such eyes—
I tightened my grip without thinking.
First I'd kill her in my heart,
and keep staring all through it.

I softly closed my eyes.

If I had birthed a swarm of snakes,

………Such things I thought.

Gazing at the girl affecting seriousness,

A headless monkey-shaped conscience

Between the woman and me

Lay sleeping.

I halted abruptly.

Suitable for killing people.

Beside the brick wall, the midday sun.

Not even wanting it.

I bite into the tomato slightly.

I let red drops drip.

Ghost-like.

Seriously. Eternally.

If only I could chew people up, I think.

A heart that mocks the audience

I dance within the mask.
I stick out my tongue.

＊ ＊ ＊

Why
The sprouts of grass yearn for light.
The sprouting of the heart—does it yearn for darkness?
O memory—wanting to kill yet cannot be killed—
From darkness to darkness I go.

The sound of a cat.

I thought there might be those who want to set fires, but
That was me.

The sound of a great wind

A cliff stood before me. Malice overlapping, I stood there laughing.

I stood laughing.

Like a beast hungering for women,
Like a god warming myself by the fire—
I yawned.

A pure woman exists in this world—
Does one exist, they say…
Flowers without shadows
Does such a thing exist in this world, they say…?
Ceaselessly round and round spin heaven and earth.

So my vision spins dizzyingly,
I plunge into wickedness.
I gamble.
A self without wife or child—

I jeered "Serves you right!" and landed the blow.

＊ ＊ ＊

Should I commit suicide?

As I wonder what to do...

Tatsuta struck billiard balls alone.

Humans

All losing their consciences
until dawn breaks

they danced.

I blurted out a monologue.

I startled.

At the creepiness of it

I say another one.

Someone—anyone—

When I think I want to try killing,

Just you alone…………

………And a friend comes.

The true culprit in the extra edition—

It’s me—

In the crowd.

I want to roar.

The eyeballs of the cat that leapt out—

Even if I try to push them in

No matter what I did, they wouldn't go in.

I stopped eating.

The scalpel's blade

projected entrails' colors

like reciting a nursery tale.

the color of entrails

transfers the color of entrails even as it moves

Having received fifty sen,

I bow once.

If I steal,

I didn’t need to bow.

When I see a human corpse,

I feel somehow...

I want to jest with a woman and laugh.

*Blood drips-down

Within darkness lies darkness,
and there is more darkness.
From the core of that darkness,
blood drips-down.
A skeleton
traverses the wilderness alone.
Into the clouds ahead
blood drips-down.

The church’s
Directly above his spire,

From the blue sky
Blood drips-down.
The canary painted on the Western plate
Split cleanly in two—
From the cracked part
Blood drips-down.
The white woman who passed by—
From the mouth of the white woman who looked back and laughed—

Blood drips-down.

Midnight’s

numeral three—

The long hand passes by—

Blood dripped-down.
Liquid medicine—
discarded into a vase—
the thistle laughed.
From the consumptive mouth,
blood dripped-down.
The sun’s shadow—
corpse-like—
from the clinging warehouse wall...

Blood drips-down.

In play,

If I pluck the dandelion’s flower,

Milk-like blood drips-down.
The climax’s
Antichrist’s beauty
Red ink’s blood drips-down.

＊ ＊ ＊

This swamp—
A bottomless swamp?
It’s swallowing a murdered corpse, I tell you—
spewed froth.
Summer remained cold.
Cedar forest
like an endless maze,
On and on I walked
I knew not where the exit lay.
The evening meal’s bonfire had burned down, but

At the tent,

No one returned.

Twilight—

Eternally—
The lame blind one—

Drawing a great circle—
Wanders through the desert

This shell
A far too beautiful luster
Kitt.

I killed several people.
It must contain poison.
I kept trembling.

In the bourgeois swine’s gut
The roar of the fire’s gathering crowd

A protest!
Thinking that, I died.

A dog rummaging through a trash can
They killed me

――I ripped out the fish's guts

The train that ran over a person

Inside it,

A baby

urinated and cried out

＊ ＊ ＊

If I stab Trump’s heart,

black blood…

If I stab a club…

Red blood flows.

The stove rumbles dully.

The memory of forgotten sins

It rumbled dully.

It was snow.

Staring at the stove’s fire,

The woman I killed—

The night I thought of it…

The death row inmate

Blindfolded—

The death row inmate smiled—at that moment,

A black halo shone.
The children

They reflected my eyes in theirs as they played.
In a quivering heart—
Ah, the skin—
With a stabbing twist into fiery bloodstains—
Is this not desolation?

You who preach evil

Dusk—

Like an array of human pupils.

The hospital window’s

Opposite eaves.

In the middle of the night.

Stroking the wall by the pillow,
I realized it was a dream.
Again I lay down quietly.
Parental kindness—
Had I felt each one by one—
Parents could never be loved infinitely.
The corpse's blood—
Laughing at this color,
Black tea—
I demonstrated stirring with a spoon.

Syphilis and—
Because the woman was crying,
In that case—
I wondered if I should let her live.
Made the crimson sun belch soot
Made the blue moon drip blood
The painter laughed.

large black

Every time I looked at my hands,

A beautiful pure white neck—
The compulsion to seize and throttle intensifies.

Through the darkness—someone

A figure turned toward me and approached. When I drew closer to look—there I was, drenched in blood… together with the thrown deba knife.

That coldness probably remains.

The bottom of a drainage ditch

The chimney—
The chimney belched thudding smoke.
The sky was too pristine…
Lifted from beneath the snow.

The Buddha statue.

When the wind hit me,

I slightly opened my eyes.

The patient
Because I heard he was getting increasingly worse,
The flowers by the bedside...
I changed the water.

＊ ＊ ＊

Cosmic rays came haphazardly.
Gnawing at my heart—

I edged into madness.

“Someone’s come to the next room!” the blind man said.

The wife could not go.

She listened intently, motionless.

When her eyes opened,

the blind man said, “I watch plays.”

Seeing that face, the wife stuck out her tongue.

Blood pressure—

steadily rising—

Even as my urge to sever the carotid artery grew—

Knowing full well it was a sham,

the gambling-striking international morality

I fondly remembered.

To the love of two people—

I placed a solitary period.

Thinking motionlessly, I pierced through the paper.

The Japanese town under a flawless Japanese sky—

A Chinese person passed by.

“So what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Christ—
At a certain time he made such a prophecy:
there exists something to erase me...

From inside the coffin where I laid my wife

Squelchingly, my body odor came wafting up.

Late night……………………

＊ ＊ ＊

A transparent glass detective
was present before me, present behind me too.
A town under autumn clarity.
Under the moon’s beauty—my lover—
there was a fool I kicked to death.
a man named Kan’ichi

Those who were superior to myself

I think it would be better if everyone were dead.

I gaze into the mirror.

Christ was born in a stable.
Lord Buddha was born in Butagoya.

And… the child laughed.

Sixteen-inch main cannon’s

The great sky directly opposite

Fiercely crimson, burning and dripping.

I will surely die.

On the Medical Association President’s empty chair
a new white kavua was draped.
Cheeks like habutae silk against a hagoita paddle—
Within my yearning childlike heart
I try inserting a needle.
A long strand of hair was mixed into the sausage.

I thought motionlessly.

I devoured it all.

The horror play—

Not one bit scared anymore.

The woman staring intently grew frightening.

At the second-hand store,
Women’s kimonos were lined up.
The hearts of sold women were lined up.

I arched back, declaring myself a different person from today onward.

That was yesterday's me.

Idiot……………

＊ ＊ ＊

Winter wind was coldly clear.
In the hollow sky among the trees.

Countless radish carcasses.

A celestial being

seemed to have fallen into some forest.

Hushed spring midday.

A white-painted truck barreled through the streets.

On and on.

Until it turned crimson.

This was the waitress.

This was the actress's tail.

It must have been rather difficult to tell them apart.

The crack in the record

When the needle slid

I saw the sneer of the one singing.

The footlights of Jigoku-za
It's aurora borealis—
That's what repent means.
The zodiacal light
showing off
the sky goddess' sculpted thighs—
that's why she hardly ever shows herself.
A place where love's forbidden
they say exists today—
the parlor with its sacred alcove...
Using women as lures
they caught an escaped convict—

Police officers more brutal than escaped convicts

He discovered the grave of a seventeen-year-old girl,
stroked a head,
offered a bow,
chased escaped convicts,
and police officers crossed the field.

The escaped convict crossed from behind.

When it was confessed and spoken of,

“What should I do?”

The daughter tried asking her mother.
She was soaked with tears.
That beautiful widow
was smirking inside restroom.

In the restroom, she smirked.

Thinking of her pregnant,

I spat saliva.

When the yellow moon ascends
The winter moon ascends smoothly through bamboo grass.

Truth truth truth truth
Pale blood drips
White red
Displays rows of large buttocks
What do you know—it’s just some greengrocer’s shop story

*A Window That Moves

A window somewhere in the hospital

Only one stays awake and moves.

In the deep snowy night—

The station employee is dozing.

In the middle of the night.
A train of nothing but skeletons passed through.
From the mother’s womb.
Only hair and teeth were extracted.
I’m sure that was quite regrettable.

An owl hooted.

"No—they say it wasn't an owl.

Two figures stood in pitch darkness."

In the driving rain at the railroad crossing

A person was run over.

The following day was splendidly clear weather.

*A Window That Moves*

The white sun and his cliff—

Morning morning...

A sneer crept upward—or did it?

In the basement.
Countless bottles stood in rows.
Mouths agape, not breathing.
A person threw coins at a prostrating beggar.

But the beggar—

Had already died.

That damn wife.

She immediately runs off to the doctor.

Only when I'm sick,

In the ramune bottle,

Like a fly losing its way to die

She shoplifted at the department store.
Under a clear blue sky,
The railway carved death’s straight line.
It stretched blackly.
Beneath the grass, sharp black stains seeped into the earth.

Distant sounds.

Around the corpse

*Flower of Hell

Flame-like Canna flowers’

In the temple garden where they bloomed forth,

Hell rose to mind.

The patient I had thought would only last until yesterday

The patient is still alive.

I stare at this morning’s heavy snow.

“Is the Moon dead?”

When the child asked,

“No-ooh,” the mother answered.

An empty-bellied eagle

The eagle got caught on the power lines and died.

Blue—blue—the sky

A figure stood rigid at the railroad crossing

He watched from afar.

The Daylight Psyche

The blue sky's cold heart

The freight train was swallowed below the horizon.

was swallowed below the horizon.

My own funeral’s

I thought of a procession.
A thorn flower blooming at the wilderness’ edge.

*Death

Even if I kill myself,

There is no one to grieve for me.

Therefore, I shall commit suicide.

The ones who get mocked rise highest.

Therefore,
The ones who commit suicide are admirable.
I've failed at suicide countless times yet still live on.
The bastard who saved me

Everyone was laughing.

On a warm day of good weather,
I want to beg by the roadside.
Everyone thinks:
Attain enlightenment and become a beggar.
Attain it once more and become a thief?
Attain it once more and become a madman? Ahaha.

A lethal dose of sleeping pills

The nurse splits in two.

They cackled shrilly.
She whom I abandoned
the window where she had hanged herself

When I pull the futon over my head, it becomes clear as day.

*Showman’s Dream

That I killed someone in Manchuria—

I smiled.

The friend who had grown plump returned.

In a bright room

When I put on the cold hat,

I recalled the face of the friend I killed.

To the friend I killed long ago,

I doggedly sent out New Year’s cards.

Foolish I.

Hiroshige lay upon the brutally murdered corpse.

I remembered the deep blue sky’s color.

If I looked up at the brick wall,

A blue, blue sky.

The sky that startles death row inmates.

I answered in place of my friend who died of illness.

The teacher was unaware.

The teacher closed the attendance register.

On a quiet mountain path at autumn midday,
Unable to endure - becoming highwaymen -
Had none done this?
"I want to breed human-headed snakes"

While thinking this, I lay with a woman.

Young showman

＊ ＊ ＊

Piercing through the blue sky—repeatedly—

Blood drips.

The spire of a Southern France temple

In the night wind.

Paper scraps crawl along the ground.

They came to an abrupt halt at the dead person’s gate.

From the brass icon statue

To the waxwork corpse of Lenin

Superstition Apostasy

*Skeleton Chronicle

The death row inmate

At last he grew still, yet—

The cicadas in the chinaberry tree screeched ceaselessly.

God’s nose
Crimson and festering.
That’s why He does not deign to show Himself.

A bottle of white tablets.

I finished counting them.

I stared fixedly at the blue sky beyond the window.

From the train crossing Lake Hamana's iron bridge
Suddenly...
I wondered whether to leap down
The ceiling's knothole

It glared at me as though—
As though it knew all my past sins.
Was the blue sky so sinful?

Horseflies and dragonflies

They collided with the white storehouse wall and died.

A blind man grinned vacantly.

He returned home.
The hem of his kimono was stained with blood.
Someone else’s old man.

He got run over by a train and died, you know.
I thought maybe it was my father who never came back, you know.

General’s Mound

The general’s bones in the coffin—the rusted sword

Had begun to draw.

＊ ＊ ＊

The blue sky was blue-black.

The crescent moon wrote a song of death.

A pen tip, perhaps?

A skull like a marble cathedral

It smiled majestically.

Antarctic Sea.

Dimly dark.

From a distant land departed—

On the young paulownia leaves

A quivering demon

＊ ＊ ＊

Resembling memories of my sin

Freight cars swarmed past.
Under the white sun,
The quagmire knew no end.

I smiled.
I tore her letter into shreds and discarded it.
It smirked as it followed along.
Another self of mine—
Dusk turned its head—

＊ ＊ ＊

No sun rises.

The horizon where even the moon does not enter—
It always lies at the edge of the mind.

Hung his head,
Strayed into a dimly lit town,
Groaned like a beast.

In the corner of the president’s office
It withered into blackness—
The red typist’s memento tulip

＊ ＊ ＊

He gazed through the thermometer window.

I want to die.

I peered into my mind.
A single Tatsuta.
Eyes that knew no sin existed.
They were eyes of a cruel, depraved madwoman.
The winter sky stood towering like a cliff.

On this side of that—
Sin resides.

＊ ＊ ＊

An infinitely powerful telescope

I peered through it.

A fly had perched on my back.

A brass sunflower.

I planted it in the garden.

To halt his sun.

＊ ＊ ＊
Rather than the night's perfume of face powder—
The scent of jet-black night's blood—
I began to crave.
The heart of a man spurned in love
Carving dandelion blossoms with a razor—

is carving them still—

＊ ＊ ＊

The world’s monks

are dwindling away—

As medical doctors proliferate way too much—

The outlying fields and hills—

The outlying fields and hills are more brutal than the city.

Because they smiled quietly and beautifully—
the blind fish of the deep sea—
even Mokumizu, who sang of longing—

He died.

＊ ＊ ＊

Emergency whistle

When the train stopped, the criminal
grinned slyly and left the wheat field

The steam locomotive—
steadily growing larger—
the rapeseed field's daylight terror.

＊ ＊ ＊

Poison and Bouquets and

Corpses of beauties piled up

Full-Speed Detective Novel

＊ ＊ ＊

Amidst the tree buds and grass sprouts stretching upward,
My heart, unable to ascend,

Though I hang myself,

A cat corpse at the water’s edge

Dried out, eyes half-open,
Watching the sunset.
When I came to kill myself,
A white cat slipped silently through
The railroad tracks' darkness.

The spring breeze

First blew away the detective

Then, leisurely from behind, it blew the criminal away.

Endlessly lined-up pipes—
a human corpse—
they say they want to devour one.

Power lines droned incessantly in the winter sky—
Only at times of death notices—
Fell utterly silent.
The criminal’s hat.
The police officer picked it up.
Discarded it and walked away.
Spring twilight.
A blood-like black Dahlia.
The girl stared—
She let out a faint sigh.
Deep in the mountains，sworn enemies crossed paths.
Because there was no one there，
they reconciled.
＊ ＊ ＊

The murderous madman had a clock without hands.
Every time he killed, he wound a spring.
I think if I had two brains—
I must not think
To think about matters
Sunlight
I sucked it deep into my gut.
A wayfaring patient was turning to bone
Freud, who reduces everything to sex,
Through an astronomical lens,

I peeked into the women’s bath.

＊ ＊ ＊

In the midst of tree leaves scattered by the wind,

The villain—

The villain leapt high toward the opposite side of the pond.

The prisoner
laughed "Ahaha" as they beat him.
They laughed "Ahaha," and the prisoner died.

The paralyzed mother-in-law knew everything.
I want to die.
Even the mistress’s heart—
Those who went to the North Pole never returned.

I was more carefree than anyone else.

I yawn.

A stone in the middle of a wide thoroughfare

A stone... gnashes its teeth.

Give it a kick with a thud.

I had been stroking it for about a ri.

the dear pebble

I suddenly threw it into the pond.