I’m moving to Tokyo where the people are old—
Young girls act like whores in the streets
And the men are too old to do anything about it,
Except for the gangsters who are both old and young
And will die soon from bullet wounds—
Where the ultraviolence flows like wine—
Where the old women are sluts too but no one cares about them—
Where the girls never say, “I love you” because they can’t pronounce the words—
Where everything works out for the best,
Where little children are spoiled, raped before and after they’re beaten—
Where the old ladies give blowjobs because they have strong knees—
Where all of the toilets are public because the women are the toilets—
I can hear their singsong voices in my head already—
I’m moving to Japan where Star Wars makes no sense,
The girls are little clones of little girls of little girls—
Geishas used to run Japan; they had the samurai by the balls,
No one in Japan remembers that—
No one in Tokyo wants to get their ass kicked by a little girl—
Serial killers run and hide—
I’m moving to Tokyo where the girls are spoiled rotten
In the sun and dress in baby clothes when they turn tricks,
Where schoolyard orgies breakout every day after Buddhist prayers—
Where the elite are old men who pass over the girls like finger food,
Passing them around like hors d’oeuvres on a silver platter
Where every little girl has a man’s hands down her panties
And no matter how gaseous the farts,
They all crowd together for the daily group gropes on the subway—
Where the girls are made of 100% pure fuck meat
Where women who give good head are more willing to take it up the ass—
I don’t know why, it just works out that way—
The streets of Tokyo will one day be empty,
Packs of rabid whores seizing every wooden phallus
Pleasuring themselves to seppuka-like death—
Using dildos the size of small eggs they dive for pearls
Loving to be wet, tsunamis confused with the orgasmic rushing of the sea—
Izanagi-no-Mikoto raping his sister and making everything okay
At the beginning of time,
When he shoved the pole inside her
She gave birth to Freda Kahlo and the Germans—
I’m moving to Tokyo where I can worship the gods in peace
And practice Shinto and Butoh and Judo
And have a fourteen-year-old lover with persistent rape fantasies—
In my mind I’m already there beneath her frilly petticoats,
Undoing her wedding kimono, smelling her dirty feet,
Spunking on her cartoony face—
Drinking green tea with Rikyu and Momoko Kochi,
Tying up Yama-uba in the rain, her wrists burning as she cries—
Knocking on Heaven’s backdoor and sleeping with monsters—
Where the future is the past—
Where the shogun rule, where no one is a Christian
I’m moving to Tokyo for the Chinese food not the fugu—
Where pussy is the only snapper that bites back,
Where perfection is pint-sized—
And comes in little plastic cups,
Where the natives are cold to the touch,
Frozen like volcanic ash—
One can never have too many Japanese,
But they’re running out,
Get them while they last—
The sun rising in the Id sets in the Ego
Where shit smells like cotton candy
Because all anyone ever eats is rice—
Where the girls are high on heroin,
Cocaine and THC and never feel pain
Where you can pull their legs off as trophies for the insane—
Where you can walk up to a schoolgirl on any street and fuck her in the ass
Because she’s a freethinker, a slave to Satan—
Her bare ass burning under the bare yellow ass of the sun
Where the perfect girl has dyed blonde hair,
Is thin as a stick and no beauty