Is it passable, my love, though I’m pretty shyfor me inquiring, and pry into the merest possibility of maybe you accepting these, my candid complimentson how pleasingyour appearance is to me,andmaybelater considering to share your life with me? […]
We met our neighborwith her dogbetween our lunchand work again. We talked about — the weather how we went to workbut never lefthow in the spring the dogs ran out“The last one leftwas […]
She has a crush on November, All pretense of cheerfulness drizzling away, as a cigarette-butt slowly floating down the gutter. She draws the blinds, ceasing to cover her bruises with Mary Quant […]
At eight o’clockyour whispers are faded periwinkle and wrinkled with shadows of indigo bruised,like a worn pair of jeanshugging your hipsa summer ten years ago. Closer to midnight you labored sighshave darkened to prussian,while […]
November-bared the branches of our ancient maple moans;sated with her fire fadedshe sighs and droops her sapdeeper, deeper into the soil, she groans and let the earthworm coil his hunger […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Björn Rudbergs writings 