Phoenix (or not)
When every library is filled, will poets be librarians? Will we take care to not create? If every verse exists, should we let pens run dry, or should we turn […]
Category Archives: dVerse
Behind the seventh shelf
Sometimes, when gibbously pregnant the moon descends behind a cloak of clouds to spend an argent night inside his library. She tiptoes in her silken slippers, teases him with flashes […]
Muddy Monday
Monday’s a heavyset woman wears boots and tramples through mud; she’s dressed in a hand-me-down trenchcoat and as she pulls up the collar to ward off the sleet that is […]
Daylight
I think of spring in terms of daylight more than snow. This morning was the first morning of this year when I saw my shadow while bicycling to work. Sunrise […]
Wild in wild
Wild in wild your rolling waves, O surge of silence, you — my sea. Today you are as smelted lead no froth no crests kindly coiling beneath this pewter sky, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 