Waiting in spacetime
Time is taught as con- cept; a tick-tock clock abstraction hard to keep since synchronicity never can account for time it takes to walk from A to B, and thus […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Because the night…
I remember how Patti Smith sang how night belongs to lovers, and I remember how I used to dance, tethered in your arms. I remember nights of skins, but as […]
A limit for concerns
Born from clipboard quotas, the sweathopped shoes I bought on sale are waiting for a thought, on who the seamstress was and if she went to bed content the day […]
Symphony from dawn to dusk
It starts with whispered strings at dawn of woodwinds; pitter-patter from the thicket: dulce wren and raindrops. Then the horn; a skein of geese, and for breeze and brook: andante: […]
Damned prenup
Harnessed to my glider, I linger for a moment. I inhale the scent of my gilded cage. Lavender and salt. My custodian is shouting but I have locked the door: […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 