Werewolf journey
I’m a grin that leaves you twisted raving mad in shimmer as you dance lunatic, moon-lulled melting for my silver spilled. Jarred, you twist and skip, when nauseous green, you […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
This is not a love story
Sometimes the moon decides to walk the streets, pretending she’s a hooker. Once I watched her starstruck, hips a-swaying pulling tricks on astronauts; her skimpy dress kept slipping up her […]
Fade in fall
The way in fall what leaves becomes your urge to stay. It briefly fireworks, in yellow, crimson, blood, before it fades. It’s like that postcard sent from Côte d’Azur, apologizing […]
Another megafauna
Once it swayed with serpent tongue in search of moths, the giant sloth, with nothing more to offer than to slowly be a lunchtime snack for yet an aging smilodon, […]
U-turns
Caged. I’m Bell-jarred, barely moving through periphery. I’m sighs behind the window, blur of highway signs and through broken mileage diesel,rust and rain I search for you. Returning. Yet — […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 