Unwashed jokes

Björn Rudbergs writings

Some nights the aged librarian
will leave his library alone
to meet his mistress in
the cheap motel across the road,
those nights he lets
the moon sojourn
alone and by herself

; and as she waddle
through the halls
dressed in lace and leather
she will chuckle,
to coax the high-strung literary voices
from the shelves
to share stories from the
deep recess of entrails:
at such nights the books forget
the thrill of romance,
crimes and wars and drama of deceit,
and like toddlers giggle
at the heroes’ minuscule “details”
faeces and salacious poetry
spilled on filthy toilet doors.

Later when the dawn arrives,
on slippers
the moon has left without a trace —
and returning, the aged librarian
finds his books
subdued, but
in the halls the moon has left
her size fourteen stiletto footprints
and the muffled reek of unwashed jokes.


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