Bök is most famous for writing a book of sorts (Eunoia), which uses only one vowel per chapter.  Take a look at Chapter E, if you’re interested in what that looks like. 

I came across this poem of his in a poetry  book about geology.

landslides
drag you down a funnelled pit
through the waist
of an hourglass
into an obliette for all sleepers.

gravel showers
bruise your body till you swoon,
the sand a fluid
solid, spilling time away
into dunes on display in tiny jars.

geology writes
a eulogy for all that it buries
by pressing words, like moths
between pages
of a mammoth encyclopedia.

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