Espen Ørud

The rain auditions at my windowIts symphony echoes in my wombMy gaze scans the walls of this apartmentTo rectify the confines of my tombI'm the cyclops in the tenementI'm the soul without the causeCrying midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doorsClippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floorStained by the wine from a shattered glassMeaningless wordsYellowed by timeFaded photos exposing painCelluloid leeches bleeding my mindChrist, you've finished playing hang