Daytime: a closed-up little house
A crowd
Crisis opens all hearts in fear
Grey blue sky from last century
Flowing Japanese children’s songs
One giant hill, shining black as coal
Emerges there, moving in on the little house
A giant hill of blood, flowing, dark as coal
It flows toward the roof of the house, drops like a fence
Dead-asleep people startled awake by a watery prison
The blast of screams, like fear like revelry
Flustered people open the piled packages
Snatching up the things beyond value to them
Wealth, family, love, faith
Your package is a memory
Containing the edge of madness, the harmony of home, and
A peaceful wound after the white cloth comes off
It seems there is still some green under the warm sunshine
But the gluey giant, black as coal
Overbrims age
One dumb child opens his exaggerated mouth for a silent scream
The birds fly suddenly
Dark blood flows up over your eyes
The world lights-out with one flash of the screen