Chant in pink
Last week my image of democracy was seared by pussy grabbing pleonasm, I wished to pupa, hide, to be in bed, I wished to shield my nose from a scent […]
Category Archives: free verse
Two as one
When you butterfly on earlobes, mindless I am tossed as you dress my chest in mane of yours. Then you tongue my cheek, lip-sip spit and flurry me on fingertips. […]
He is library
His library is ripe with voices; within each book there are calls for action; calls to wait; commands for war and pleas for peace. Never silent (resilient) books are pain […]
Caesura and a sigh
The aged librarian is the caesura in a reading when we still are silent, waiting to applaud. We glance sideways, shuffle feet, explore the lint on threadbare cloth. And we […]
Cellar interior
In my cellar I had wine and memories waiting to mature or turn to vinegar. I bottled summer. Winter, Wind. Whispered voices. I waited for my wine to peak — […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 