by Junpei Tarashi | Jan 2, 2023 | 2022 September
Leaning against the cold porcelain sink, attempting to open the gates to a new day, I stare into the mirrored face, eyes still lifeless, skin colorless and hair matted on the side that met the pillow, just like my father’s hair when he’d fallen hard asleep on the...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jan 2, 2023 | 2022 September
Tommy says that his umbilical cord shriveled up and fell off before he was even born; that he came out of the womb with it tied into a sailors’ knot around his pinky. We were all so impressed. How had he lost it that early? I’m not that gullible anymore. My mom used...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jan 2, 2023 | 2022 July
The uppity cemetery thinks that it will have me completely. Like a lover who put me in the coffin of his need. I leave the coffin and head for a bar which makes killer martinis. I can’t skip dying, but I can skip the graveyard, my ashes snugging in a rose...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jan 2, 2023 | 2022 August
winter is much colder this time / around and time only / lingers in the variations ofsunlight you could send / me rare pieces of a frozen ocean / before they thaw /between gasps otherworldly / hearts of winter thoughts in the summer / of mysouthern home // clouds in...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jan 2, 2023 | 2022 July
On the 28th March 1941, Virginia Woolf drowned herself in the River Ouse. The following is an Ekphrastic poem inspired by the painting of her sister, Vanessa Bell, by fellow Bloomsbury Group member, Duncan Grant. This poem is a moment wherein Vanessa is writing to her...
