An Electronic Journal of the Arts
Paper mountains

by Patrick Shiroishi

-----

                                                                                                       

the bombed temple is now a temple
of paulownias. an act of devastation

becomes a palace of remembrance. the soil
ripples with exhales & exit wounds, & makes a home

under おじいちゃん’s nails
he passes it to 母 through ocean breeze & poems

she passes it to me through piano keys & musubi
then, in an instant, we all turn into palaces

full of reason, standing still like hummingbirds
warmed by love & riotfire & hearts that beat with haste

the saxophone’s breath runs through the windows
like a bullet asking for an audience

we all crave a home
& so I will keep my feet planted here

waiting for my descendents to come
I prepare the soil, the dirt under my nails a reminder

that forgetting is violent

                                                                                                   

was it really for the safety of your
country that you lit up these skies?

            my unborn children carry none of the weight
            my ancestors had to endure. they are everything

& they never cry tears. they dance with my
grandmothers & don't have to forget when

            their candles got stomped out
            by the smallest gasps. can you hear it now?

the pitter patter of dancing feet
mistaken for rain, おばあちゃん watching over me

            through the fog. I just want to hear you
            say my name but all I hear is the puddle rippling













                                  when I wake to the scent of petrichor
                                            I know you were just next to me






                                                                                                 

not like us, they thought
as they caressed triggers, a swarm
of sobs crescendoing behind them

my story is the postscript of everyone
who cried for peace, pleaded for a god to be real,
begged it would be the last time Sayoko would have to start over

are we holy (alone)?

let the hazel light fill the shadow cast by her
gravestone. she'll never have to pack her bags
or see Heart Mountain again
she can rest now, finally home

she comes back to life every time I exhale
I am never alone

-----

Patrick Shiroishi is a Japanese-American multi-instrumentalist, composer & poet based in Los Angeles. Over the last decade he has established himself as one of the premier improvising musicians in the city, playing solo & in numerous collaborative projects. He has presented work & performed at the Museum of Contemporary Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Broad Museum, The Getty, commissioned by the LA Philharmonic & has toured around the world in various solo & band configurations including The Armed & contemporary classical ensemble Wild Up.



Minor Works

An Electronic Journal of the Arts

Est. Los Angeles, CA, 2026

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