Still Life with Onions
More faithful than your lying rose, no thorn will bite me, no promises are faked from petals dropped too soon, Your onion-kiss remains to linger on my lips; and with […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Tournesol
I turn my face to meet the sun but bows to hide from wind and rain, I’m born in soil and strong I stretch my supple stem towards the sky […]
In a Parisian café, after and before.
I sit alone stirring my coffee turning cold. There is no reason to stir, I always drink my coffee black but the sound of the spoon hitting the porcelain masks […]
Library 2.0
The library is covered, floor to ceiling, with government-issued brand- new sixty-inch plasmoid screens blaring infotainment as fresh barista- librarians serve coffee to the glass- eyed teenage girls sitting glued […]
After fire
After fire, the crosses, gowns, and graveyards bones and birch-trees noses, shackles, ropes lay ashen pyre-cold and we are left as ash to fertilize the flowerbeds ash to choke on […]
