Japan

I might have lost my way
somewhere in Japan. For
some reason my mind is
forever returning to
memories of Japan,
the quiet streets like
quaint suburbs of Paris,
incredible wealth bubbling
underneath the surface of
all things, ancient ways
adulterated by the modern.
The first image which
comes to me each time is
a coffee shop near a park
where I saw beautiful
women (and far-too rich)
one day; I tried to flirt,
as any man would, and
almost instantly found
myself sitting alone.
It was in that park too
that I went on a date.
The park was after lunch;
lunch was Chinese and
my date was testing me
to see if I really did
speak Chinese. I passed
her test, then we went
to sit in the park.
Bunches of Japanese
families were out
playing games, having
barbecue. My date and I
sat on the grass,
in the sun; I was
overtaken by a sense that
I was more alone than ever.
"Even if she does want me,"
I thought, "I don't want her."
We left and I never called
her again. Ever since I've
kept myself from being
with a woman I didn't
really want. Ever since
I've been the loneliest fool
you probably know.

(2007)