Ode to the Oriental Woman: But What of the Goddesses?

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They call her Takaamanohara
The plain of high heaven
Where gods reside

They call her Takaamanohara
Because she is a dreamscape,
Their wet one
A mean mix of heaven and earth,
Surreal world of apocalypse and fantasy,
Exotic fabrication borne of militaristic altercation
Where kaleidoscope displays of earthworm skyscraper lights
And iridescent leaves of palm trees combine,
Once wild, now tamed – perfect design
She is a dreamscape
And the male gaze agrees

They call her Takaamanohara
Taiko drums signify the tsunami
Of sexual sometimes and sexless always
Striking her shores,
And so she lays down her naked body
Succumbs and submits, they say
But she is a subversive one –
Turns her cheeks upward and
For her pleasure alone
Farts,
Expunging a lascivious cloud of lavender-pink perfume
And “fuck
off

They call her Takaamanohara
Takaa-man-ohara –
Man, that’s who calls her theirs
The plain of high heaven
High, to be plain enough to think they’ll ever see heaven,
or any part of her
Where gods reside
But what of the goddesses?

Chiho Aoshima's

Chiho Aoshima’s “The Divine Gas” (www.brooklynrail.org)

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