Meiji period, not the Bronx, not Italian or Puerto Rican;

guys, like these guys, in wife-beater T-shirts, dungarees

rolled-up at the cuffs, always looked for shit to happen,

always waiting against the schoolyard wall in the 1950s,

eye-balling an outsider. Didn’t live there? You were one.

These guys in the photograph aren’t saying hello, please

enjoy our nice neighborhood and stay until you’re done:

where we live is more interesting than in the other cities.

Commodore Perry recently “opened” Edo: with cannon.

This is the next generation: what each of these guys sees

is a Westerner who did that. In their eyes is no invitation

to those who made them worthless in their own country.

Mock the guy with the umbrella? He’ll cut you with ease.