Air Force One
The airplane cuts through thick clouds, bringing forth the archipelago’s anxiety
Crawling on the reef, those soldiers
on military maneuvers just learned to say “hello”
Now they have to suddenly stand up
in the Okinawan town hall ablaze with lights
while you, President in a black body,
great lover of one black body, tonight,
where are you going to stay?
In bed next door, which Secretary of State, in white body, is it
that illuminates Asian affairs?
Out of the Pacific undercurrent, who can
swim slowly toward here, appearing
in a round cap with a single star,
and knocking on you, say,
“Buddy, it’s still early,
let’s go out for a walk”?
