You’ve heard of Basho (芭蕉). You know the rhythmic structure of a tanka. What? You don’t? You can hardly call yourself an appreciator of Japanese culture if you can’t say a thing about its history of innovative poetry. If you need a primer on the subject, though, please don’t look here. I’m far more read up on cosplay than the Kokinshuu (古今集—Old and New Poetry Collection).
It would take hundreds of pages to present an adequate image of the beauty and mystery of nearly two millennia of Japanese poetry. It will take only one page, however, to sully that image permanently with the following works by Ooji (大父) from the island of Usa (a territory which has recently come under international dispute—nobody wants it). An obscure and best forgotten poet, Ooji composed mainly in the rare rimu riku style.
There once was a daimyo from Mito
Who’d walk around incognito.
With villains he’d wrestle
Then flash his credentials.
The peasants all thought he was neato.
In Beppu the operative word
Is “onsen,” so I have heard.
The people down there
Golf in their swimwear
And soak in each water hazard.
The Lord High Admiral Poohbah
Took his beach vacation at Tsukuba.
What need there, you ask,
For a snorkel and mask?
He’d be better off in Aruba.
Shikoku-ites will assail ya
With their travel paraphernalia;
They’ll fill you with wonder
For their land down under
As Japan’s own mini-Australia.
Two ladies from Hachinohe
Made a game for a rainy day.
Swinging mallets indoors
On soft woven floors,
They call it Tatami Croquet.
The colors of Kyoto in autumn
Are brief, so don’t lounge on your bottom.
They take a big squeegee
To all the momiji
Until you can no longer spot ‘em.
There’s no truth in the claim of Yakult’s
To cure baldness in male adults.
I’ve also learned Calpis
Rubbed into your scalp is
Not going to improve your results.
The sleepy town of Obama
Once met with considerable drama
When it shared its name
With a person of fame
And was Googled more than Yokohama.
A hog on a bench in Sendai
Was accosted by a passerby
Asking, “When will this blight
Be removed from our sight?”
It replied with a sneer, “When pigs fly!”
In the mountains of Gifu are those who
Know a man whom everyone goes to
When feeling unwell.
He just casts a spell.
They call him the Wizard of Ozu.
A young traveler from Berlin
Fell prey to a strange allergen
When she ate a taco
With some chirimenjako.
I doubt she’ll try that again.
The northern town of Rumoi
Was the scene of a Soviet ploy
To ferry across
Cheap Russian soy sauce
And sell it as a decoy.
Aioi, a city in Hyogo,
Was trying to jumpstart its mojo.
Said the mayor, “Look, then;
Add an ‘r’ and an ‘n,’
And make ‘Aironi’ our new logo!”