Likely in my black fedora
Likely I will dress for Halloween in rubber boots, an oilskin coat, and kid-skin gloves. Likely on my head the black fedora that shades my face from prying eyes. Likely, […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Telltale signs
Every day I scan the mirror of my pond for telltale signs. Bubbles could be the first sign that my secret’s slipping through its shackles. “I promise, you, it’s just […]
Five ways to use a mallet
There were caw of crows a fence around the headstone and his broken mallet overgrown with grass. A mallet argument bludgeon better than convinces, maybe silence is a question. We […]
Tethered to your tinsel eyes
Come night and dazzle me with tinsel eyes let silver soak the water; lend the songs of moon and stars; amaze me tender, strong. Massage me soft; let’s dance as […]
Vanitas
I see in bones and marrow, broken skulls and crimson ink on parchment scribbled: words in vain repeated songs of harrow; cull of reaper: blood on pillow, chest that hurts. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 