From Masuk Toko Keluar di Tokyo [Enter a Shop, Come Out in Tokyo} (Kepustakaan Populer Gramedia, 2018)
MAXIMUM MOKSHA
Too many voices, they puddle in the ear and the megaphone
stalks. The water’s cloudy, so much lost, sunk, floating,
turns into phone data parasite bacteria. The intricate road looks full
of intersections that form the wrinkles on your face.
Sorrows of years long past you hug tight each
day waking the alleys beneath your lips, and on your forehead
a straight road of paved worry, and in the corners
of your eyes a satellite tower where I look for the final 4G signal
after bashing my phone over and over. A map with the most accurate
projection in the world, that’s what I’m going to download to find the directions
to my head. Because morning is a repeat search for reasons and
waking up in the morning is a rebirth, without the crying and the call
to prayer in your ears, though with the same volume of silent sobbing
to yourself and a want just as big to crawl
back into the womb.
BARF BAG
I forget like a peanut
how to barf you up
bait my gullet
and out you come, along with qwerty
a crash of fngers
is a barf bag
inside a barf bag
I secret myself until it gets stuffy
waiting for the bag to soften
then I come out with cowardly
drips and drabs.
GHOST TRAIN
My friend I turned into a key
to open the gate to the
night market: carousel, cotton candy
and the wall of death
the night market travels from city to city
ten nights per city
a visitor will only come once
or twice if not totally satisfied with once
or three times if they really need it once more
but not over and over again
lest they come under the suspicion
of my friend the key
Secretly I transformed her
she hasn’t even noticed she’s the key
to your eyes, brimming with a ghost train
its four stations between our eyes
the train bounces off the corner of your eye
and spills to your shoulders
I turned my friend into a key
to open you
a folded smile and wrong number
did you turn her into a key too?
to open me
Next time
let’s just jump the fence
WALKING FOR 2,511 HOURS
Riding a rapidly rocketing metal ball and lost
get yourself out of there before it blows and rusts
the little prince will show you the way
the way home, he says, but it’s a trick
because really who even knows
there’s never a way home
round-trip tickets are a hoax
you can only choose to go or to stay
to take a boat or a train or threads of komorebi
returning is a desire as strong as leaving
though you’re willing to walk for 2,511 hours
for some tea with rock sugar,
half a cup of coffee,
and weekend dances.
About the Author
Farhanah was born in Bogor, Indonesia in 1988. A graduate from the Universitas Indonesia, she now works as a digital security trainer and participates in creative workers’ unions and digital literacy initiatives. Masuk Toko Keluar di Tokyo is her first book.
About the Translator
Daniel Owen is a writer, translator, and editor. His translation of Afrizal Malna’s Document Shredding Museum was published by Reading Sideways Press. His other translations of Malna and Farhanah have appeared in Asymptote, The Brooklyn Rail, and elsewhere. He participates in the Ugly Duckling Presse editorial collective.
Image Credit: Kepustakaan Populer Gramedia, 2014
