A Boar Buys Real Estate in Fukushima Prefecture

for a snootful of roots, fallen fruits, and the carrion

of a cream-coloured marten. She scuffs a four

-hoofed footpath into the linoleum. Enough room

for her furs. The tusks of past lovers. Her life

without leaving at sunrise—she can already see it.

Her birthplace was razed for a house like this.

Market’s recovering, the boar realtor says. Scrap

and build. This world is cursed but you find reasons

to keep on living. The boar is quiet. She is happy. She

has survived on this land for a decade. For the young

everything needs fixing. From her window

she can see the mountains, just like

from any window.

Structure

13 lines · 1 stanza