Black Carnation
This morning is a black carnation; slightly bent it’s dying in the January drizzle. I’m tossed and turned at the mercy of the cruel clouds and have to shawl myself […]
Monthly Archives: January 2019
Only the living can fear
The taste of fear is open, pure and red — a lump of meat, it’s poppies lost and flown from cries in mud, in trenches darkly bled. We harvested our […]
Higher grounds
They said that glaciers wouldn’t melt, that science was conspiracy, a hoax to take our jobs; and we believed, believed and dug ever deeper, deeper just to feed their furnace […]
Tea on the first day of the year
In the recess of the library, behind his least loved books there is a wormhole to the past, a void that some would call his prison and others his escape. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 