The Japanese artist reduces the word
To the image, not unlike a cartoon
In its simplicity and lack of depth,
To find the inessence of the absurd,
The quintessence of the present rune.
Such images never drew in a breath,
But they look at us with knotted eyes
Drawing tight the ends of close and soon,
All to answer our what’s? with why’s?
This is our one tiger, the tigers croon.
You are only yourselves in our disguise,
Only knowing us without being wise.
The tiger has disappeared into the page
To reappear in the next human age.
