In vain I stitched
On the fringe of dreams I gather syllables from scents to sieve and sew and patchwork into quilts and mittens… Awake too late, but harsh this morning light in vain […]
Category Archives: free verse
Morning on the metro
In chthonic snaking underneath we’re crammed commuting flesh to flesh; with faces luminent, as if our death: is closer now when brought us fresh a morning when from Manchester we […]
A song of springtime
when sound is honey, music spiced with spring come sing, come spin come bare your feet come dance with me then dusk me gently swirl me dreams spun in honey […]
Roadkill
Bombarded by the news, by tweets and updates. on blood and bombs. from Nice and Paris, from Baghdad and Aleppo; on poverty and sport, paid by clicks for dating Russian […]
Food for thought
This still life still can be a shotgunned swan, both corpse unplucked and food uncooked. Just add some warmth, asparagus and salt, parsley, parsnips, pepper and potatoes; stir to sate […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 