Gangrene
I dressed my wounds with dirty linen — a faked grin (crimson painted) masks a bleeding heart. Can you sense the scent of gangrene yet? A second offering for Mish […]
Category Archives: free verse
The mask of pretending narcissism
In the mirror he can see his stories, past and present sins as carved striations, scars and flaky rot — still he smiles, pretending it’s right to take but never […]
Sweet lie
Life is being squeezed between a birthstone and a headstone, a cul-de-sac ending in abyss. Life is being stuck, to be running in a treadmill. But if you quack me […]
The world is flat
Awhaped and betrumped we’re stumped for words; as war & fury can be waged in only hundred forty letters Cause when quacksalver and coney-catch can match the facts of science […]
Yellowfoot
In mid October porcini mushrooms have been eaten by the slugs; there are no yellow chanterelles; it’s even late for hedgehog mushroom; their pale faces would shinel against the pockmarked […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 