My crave is not a butterfly
My crave is hunger hard as granite — carved with sin, it’s dark and cellar-dank My crave is heavy: rotten wood, it’s headstone letters — lichen-filled it’s senseless skin it’s […]
Category Archives: free verse
Mind the social gap
Purple needle marks — a reaper’s trail on Cinderella’s arm. You may kiss her splitted lips, lick the lye, for soot and sins: but no more pennies for your thoughts […]
Counting beans
One Hundred Thirty Three These beans, to be, I’m Jack and talk for stalks Fee-fi-fo-fum One Hundred Thirty Four and smell the blood of british man for goose that lay […]
The whiteness of a beast.
A certain whiteness — just before my thoughts are caged inside the borders glow: It’s perfect in my mind. When world is still compressed, as gravity of air; it’s luminous, […]
Tepid gravy
Hiss and chunk-chunk bellows working hesitant with oxygen in plastic tubes Inhale skin to skin with latex-gloves between, Exhale. Inhale-exhale, LED-displayed I see the needle’s eye. Spoon by spoon potatoes […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 