Alan Pejković was born in 1971. He has three university degrees in Sweden: an MA in English language and literature at Gävle University, a BA in History of Religions at Uppsala University, and he holds teaching degree from Stockholm University in English and Swedish language. Presently he works on the last phase of his PhD dissertation on liminal figures in contemporary American novels at the English Department in Uppsala, Sweden. Besides academic work, he works as a freelance writer, translator, and book reviewer. His poetry has been published in Swedish, English, and several languages in the Balkan area. He is also widely published in theoretical and literary journals in the Balkans. For BTJ (a leading supplier of media services in Sweden), he regularly reviews books from ex-Yugoslavia as well as books on literature, language, religions and other similar areas.
The memory dropped sharply overnight. A freezing point.
Give me a drop of my old street.
Time haunts me, fills me with doubt.
The image of the aged boys, ruined girls, gardens in bloom.
The image flows backwards, changing prisms, transparent crystals.
I stand at the parking place. I sit at my office. Just a point in time.
The street is still a valid point in God’s report on me.
The street punctuates my future.
My Mistress and I at the sunny Afternoon
I am extramaritally yours, my mistress of the erogenous zones.
I stand in your shadow.
You play the violin, I adore your high heels.
Your stocking blasts a hole in my eyes.
Nylon sea. I am drowning. Whistling wolves in my ears. Air rushes from your mouth.
Enclose me in the space between your teeth.
A Boundary Lover’s Poem
I love your fence surrounding me, your words shutting me in, your staying with me till morning fires build up a wall.
I adore that you contain me, insert me into your love.
You have me inside you like a screaming fetus.
You include me in your collection. You form my boundaries.
You add me to your gallery of destroyed borderlands.
You burn my limits to unrecognizable geometrical patterns.