flowmatic

Douglas Cole

Satoshi Kon says, where are you going? 
Everyone is walking around in their bones. 
Fish woman is praying to the south, 
or Manu’s bodega, and that stomach ache 
is the roller coaster rising and falling 
in the tunnel where anything can happen. 
Satoshi Kon says, look, and redraws faces 
on the passengers in the water taxi 
so they hover and jiggle and don’t quite fit 
the oval of the skull, and he says, 
this is just a reminder, as I look down and see 
that I’m all lines and spaces. 
Satoshi Kon says, face a mirror to a mirror 
and you get an infinite reaction. 
Satoshi Kon says, let’s put these two together 
and see what happens,
redraw skyline, flip night into day. 
I say, wait, wait as the backdrop rolls away. 
Satoshi Kon hands me a pen—his words 
in a bubble over his head—
draw your way out if you want, or in, 
as a freight truck guns it up Yesler Way.