Rockdove
Cherry blossoms: When I visit the city I carry a gun
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:16+00:00 February 1st, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 46|0 Comments
Cherry blossoms: When I visit the city I carry a gun
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:18+00:00 November 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 45|0 Comments
poem without any aim or pretension to be another source of your tension— a post-apocalyptic poem that no one will [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:17+00:00 November 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 45|0 Comments
the quickest to sink into darkness are small towns the smaller the quicker they fall like the man walking through [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:17+00:00 November 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 45|0 Comments
Ah, Grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog who comes to the back door for a crust, [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:18+00:00 September 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 44|0 Comments
The words that tear out your tongue. The burdens of your eyes. The heart fists. How tired thinking about black [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:19+00:00 September 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 44|0 Comments
I found him in the mental hospital. He was sleeping on the bed between the empty scratched walls dressed in [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:20+00:00 July 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 43|0 Comments
Translated by: Helena Berg, Fiona SampsonLanguage says: Before Language there stands a language. Language is tainted traces from over there. [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:20+00:00 July 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 43|0 Comments
Strange now to recollect them who were once more real than ourselves. Strange to have them motionless in photographs, uttering [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:21+00:00 May 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 42|0 Comments
I’ve heard the system’s closing down. It’s good reading in books, old friend, your words about what a friend is, [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:21+00:00 May 1st, 2005|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 42|0 Comments
Now I recognize it was always me like a camera set to expose itself to a picture or a pipe [...]