Japan

Even with insects —
some can sing,
some can’ t.

Goes out,
comes back —
the love life of a cat.

Under the evening moon
the snail
is stripped to the waist.

Is it a weightless pistol —
your hand.

The tail of smoke
like a limitless conversation
risks blooming and death.
The head of a desert.
A blank crawls parallel to lines of combed hair.
A barometer pursued its dream
without even blinking.
A released piglet
pricked up its rose petal ears
and vanished like a star.

Everyone
waits for everyone
on an unknown
but familiar
infinite chessboard.

Translated from the Japanese