Goto Islands

Keep talking while I load the gun.
And remember, every death requires an essay.
I don't want to hurt you, but we don't write 'round here much anymore and
and this place needs more actual content. Let's begin.

here you may sit and reconcile with your dear departed atop
mountain , having entered thousands of torii the color sunsets never are .
they form a tunnel at the foot of the mountain and
and as you go(spots of sunlight filter through,you infer the presence
of trees)their orange frames are spaced,now inches , now feet  ,    now a
huge stone torii with a personality(as many rocks have,in shinto.

There are others here,around a tilted mirror
the mirror reflects the sky and says, "We have put a mirror here
as it is the smallest token You need that You might understand


You are confused; Fushimi Inari Taisha is four
hundred miles from the--GOTO NAKADORIJIMA

once, we wrote stories on the leaves of trees with Sharpie
not seeing a mockery of permanence in the face of inevitable winter
but secret fragments for others to find--
stories, hard to follow--the wind would rearrange them--
and now forests always put me in a treasure-hunting mood

A world of spaghetti, imagine a black cauldron full of those golden noodles, pockets of red sauce, and you dive in and struggle forward, swimming into a dimension completely filled forever with nothing but spaghetti and sauce and occasionally a meatball, dark and smothering lost forever in seas of pasta nauseatin--GOTO NARUSHIMA

      Seriously, man.

I'm not kidding about that

     swastika balloon.

• John K. Nelson, A year in the life of a Shinto Shrine
• Shūji Terayama, kakurenbo mittsu kazoete fuyu ni naru
• Shel Silverstein, Spaghetti
• Wikipedia, Goto Islands