Malte Persson Poems

But which is ‘the song' amongst all songs here?
Someone shies from all that noise around
...

When morning X-rays night
barely even a skeleton is visible:
white fish bones left in white sand.
...

The anorexic winter Sun
moves rapidly across the catwalk
of an arctic sky. An overexposed
...

Heaven - I jot down - above his head
is like an ancient iron pan
where fried stars are left
...