Kurt Cobain lives on the t-shirt of a 14-year old Japanese boy
in the side alleys of Harajuku,
hoping a street photographer will find this fashion worthy
of digital immortalizing for Tokyo voyeurs to click
on and rate and validate his existence.
Johnny Cash lives on the jukebox
of a newly opened 1950’s recreationist diner
with premium re-upholstered candy red vinyl stools
and three ashtrays per table, serving as conversation backdrops
for overly and intentionally styled self-proclaimed hipsters,
smoking dwindling cigarettes stuffed with menthol
and dwindling childhood ambition.
Bob Marley lives on the designer purse of the lunching housewife
at Midtown with bedazzled precious stone ornamentation,
assuring all within bling distance, that indeed,
every little thing will be (very) alright,
as tiny, also bejeweled dog sits in matching Bob Marley designer carrier,
pondering its doghood and dreaming of life
beyond a series of brand new bonafide purses.
The Beatles play in the countryside of Japan,
In cars that pass ricefields, and tractors, and convenience stores.
In pizza shops called California pizza,
set against the landscape of ancient Japanese mountain ranges,
majestic and legendary.
Bob Dylan plays in the jean shop
in central Tokyo, and in the bars and cafes
filled with people who don’t care what he is saying,
having lattes and martinis and unformed thoughts of rebellion,
no language or culture to form the matching sentences
or scrawl the protest signs.
The times they are a-changing despite them.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers play in a t-shirt shop,
with it’s scrambled Californication and under it’s bridge,
before an audience of urban dwelling techno designers
who would never touch a drug,
but bop their heads and make their purchasing decisions
to the beats and basslines of post punk poetry.
Jack Kerouac quotes linger printed on the side of a wall,
translated into Japanese, speaking of Buddha and 1950’s American Dreams,
On the Road comes available as a graphic on a tote bag
and also a designer T,
its aesthetic powering the visual landscape,
but not the minds or souls,
of the dwellers of central Tokyo city.