With soft steps the cat, without awakening the house, finds the sun on the roof...

Here is how Rilke spins a tale, as if in passing, barely noticing the blast and the crater left by his handful of lines: It was already...

... in the exact same way a perfume is a longing, fake fire is another.

The sharp smile of the Cheshire Cat is known to hang in the air—like perfume or less pleasant alternatives—after its owner vanishes. The...

on the shore down under weeping for time that can't be crossed how true that dream was

frothy thin things I can't tell or hold for long must at least be seen

When the full collection is read as such, one doesn't just read the poems but also, obscurely, the man behind ...

playful skies tonight islands, high fives, goddesses in the lilac veils

in the solitude of seeing, nothing that won't laugh, that can't breathe

the end of the day / new bowl with yellow daisies / a smile in the air

... this black silken night

someone’s gotta watch, ill-qualified though I am, these dusks and blue dawns

“Relax,” they would apparently tell themselves, “You’re dead already. Dead because you were born. So, instead of fretting, just relax..."

coming this mad fall a doomed story of courage to resist Netflix

Just the sound of this...

Very simple deal: Bashō writes a haiku, and I respond with another or two. A mini compilation to celebrate this fall and/or to succumb to...

the 2012 Penguin Classics edition, translated from Russian by Dimitri Nabokov in collaboration with Nabokov himself. [It should be noted...

... artist, and now a young oak tree. I was devouring a cake cup of raspberries and pistachio cream, sitting on the soft grass, unseeing...

(14th-century Japanese classic by Yoshida Kenkō, translated by Meredith McKinnney, Penguin Books, 2013; obviously, the "best" refers...

"A beginner should not hold two arrows.... You will be careless with the first, knowing you have a second."