Confessions of my jeans
Why does the fabric in my jeans strain and prickle as from the need of needles? impatient with slips of fingertips of dripping secrets from her dreams of urgent quotas […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
My weight in night
Its weight — my burden, heavy boots still unploughed: the frozen fields, the clay, your ash; a frown of crescent moons: your jealous eye closing like the clams; a woman […]
a cancerous moon
none we see o, come as one as reams on war concern us crimson raw come, o come as caucus names secure a man as sermons answer none unseen once […]
Dreadlocks lost
Knits are not felt quite like pelt Domesticated fabric softened emperor, regally impressing yet yearns for dreadlocks lost & waterlogged existence on meadow grass Today Margret let us be […]
The empress’ cleft
The empress’ bejeweled cleft perfect pert defer her decent dress. Embed her fevered bed enters the erected steed beseech the reckless deeds bleed the gentle feeds the flesh Etches, fettered […]
