SHUTTERS

I saw the bookends in a deserted shopping arcade. Painted on metal roller doors by faceless artists. Dissected by horizontal grooves with surgical precision. I used to pass them on the way to school. Watching the rubbish drift, imagining the absent life. Taichiroh. H, green-fire breathing yellow dragon. Soft body under lumpy spine. Round eyes seeing all. Painted like bulls-eyes: white, navy, yellow, blue. Drawing you in and away. A picket fence behind the monster. A green business tie around its neck. Sun peeking from top left corner. Normality can’t be that easy. Under the dragon’s plinth reads the English: “Good Morning! It’s time for you to wake up and attend to your business.” Even the cartoons here give orders. Three-clawed feet, bright yellow skin. Start the day the dragon way. Start it now or you’ll be dragged away.

The next shutter is Keisuke. M’s. A white lion in leopard print pyjama pants. His tail ambles out behind, sprouting flowers. Picket fence again, marks the boundary of home. Your eyes are sleepy, his eyelids droop. Narrow vision, tunnel focus, cat’s eyes, feline seduction. “I know everything about you... I see you evertime and everwhere. Good night.” He is watching you always. He is not alone. He has the knowledge you seek. That knowing of you, you cannot have. That is the power he holds as you sleep. He sits like an artist’s model. Poses for the brush or the camera. Take a little more off, Mr Lion. You look so beautiful right now. No one ever says that to me. There is always something to improve. Heights to scale that keep rising. Another peak over every crest. Know that you can always be better. Accept that you will never be best.

A dragon to start, a lion to end. In between you must fend for yourself.