A smiling man
They said he smiled between the bursts of death a student with a parasol that hid an AK-47. They said he smiled and laughed when tourists ran. Maybe in this […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
The trail you lost
Spit(e) and ashes — words. A pull of liquid fire flows as worms inside my veins I’m a cuddling want, a wishful night, a silky corpse. I’m the black prose […]
Slavery of Chlorophyll
My garden rests heavy with the weight of rain drained at evening from the growth from daylight slavery from chlorophyll machinery from nagging voice of seize the day. “Do the […]
Leaving for Cannes
Hungry spotlights and scavenging flashlights were searching for every indication of a celebrity bulge that could expose an infidelity, Every premiere is a meat-market for tabloid journalism. Loretta leaned against […]
Promises the monsoon bring
Parched — your stumbling sentences are smothered by a senseless sun. In silent sweat we waited for the wind we waited for the water a day when in the coolness […]
