Too much sacrifice
Erasing self, to keep your social stature is a sacrifice no parent should expect a child to give. … and afterwards… what kind of wild darkness can you pour into […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
The night of Saint Lucy
Close to winter solstice Night is dressed in worsted wool, wears polished boots, his hands are pale as knives. He smiles in sickles, as he slyly whispers sordid lies and […]
In good hands?
It started to look good, water and soil had been dealt with. Woods and weed blended well with beasts, but it had been six days of hard and excruciating labor. […]
Murder of crows
This morning when I passed their tree the crows, the augary birds stayed silent, as if they knew and wouldn’t say like canary birds succumbing to the noxious gas and […]
Cereal killing
My bread-knife’s both benign and sharp, the kindest of my tools unless you’re loaf; the sweet one kneaded with a touch of love and baked to wheatly glutinous perfection, but […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 