The Goods

Love was

Poem. 2009.

Not protective gallantry.

Aeolia

for Ulysses. 

Ship sailed. Sun set.

The hand that held let go.

Rose in fairwell, blossomed against the velvet skyline, fell.

And the surf, the sea of time,

Rebellion

2009

We dreamt in the hazy colors of possibility,
and learned to not apologize for it, for anything
even if it meant a certain aloofness,
a stinging solitude,
and, if not a physical, a spiritual ostracizing,
because we had not read all the books we hoped to read,
nor seen the…

Easter Fragments

It was always 6 a.m. when I returned to Uppsala.
The centrum was deserted and I could see Eastwood’s ghost at the taxi stop, cigar in mouth whispering into the morning wind.
Not even a bird in the sky,
and the only thing more dead than my legs was the battery on my camera,
which was a pity since…

Eve

Written in Italy 2012

And then there it was, another Eve, which is to say a night before something really…

Balsam Barons

Written in the USA, 2009

Triple Entendre

3 shorts, while journeying in France, 2010

I. On the back of the map to Veckring.

Spring is not the time for writing.
Writing is for darkness and cold.
When the mind is trapped doubly indoors.
Spring is for release…

9 shorts from NYC

Poem series written in a park at 11th and 52nd, spring 2009

Morning People

0752. Conductor woke me up. Didn’t bother to check my ticket as I scrumbled fumsily to pull it from my wallet. She just nodded Uppsala and moved on.

Stockholm Station. Empty. At 6 am. Empty Burger King boxes. Spent cardboard cups. No humanity. Silence. A public space…