DESCRIPTION:
Smoking Wakaba on the balcony
Of the Obaku student dormitory
With my shinto-pink rice cooker in my room

Gazing down at the sterility
While dreaming of splendid calligraphy
Like fertile steam that rises from
The weave of beauty's loom.

Spring is like sherbet in the air,
And on these antidepressants
I seem to have so much to share,
But even in the quiet thrill
Of komorebi
There is no one there.
There is no on there.

Song: Kodagain
Music: Saša Zorić Čombe
Words: Quentin S. Crisp