I experienced Tokyo as if I was knitting threads of grey into a masterpiece fabric of non-imposition.Tennis-ball-sized ice cubes, hand-carved, in a cocktail glass.A salon named Helvetica Hair. Poetry performed at Super Deluxe.A schooling pad. Not too shy or childish on a wall in a pachinko room, noodle-slurping, a melody as the doors on the Yamanote line open and a different tune as passengers load the train. The future is bright on a skateboard. Bicycles parked with the kickstand, no chain or lock in sight. Pink, blue, chartreuse, more pink, variations of grey.White knee socks and navy shoes on schoolchildren, a Murakami floral transit bus. Acoustic music from Spiral Records, manga shops, and a by-the- hour dog hotel named Smile Point.Tokyo lives in me.
Tokyo
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amery calvelli
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