Rude bells
Call out rude bells! for midnight skies;to autumn rain, to falling leaves;to what’s been lost to what we grieveCall out! let truths succeed their lies. Ring out the war, ring […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Is this for real?
A rain of missiles from abovemorning kamikaze droneshurled at playgrounds,bicycle paths in the morning rush,on residential houseson anything resembling normalto cause fear,to terrorize the sleep-deprivedhunkering again in subway stations.This should […]
My sourdough’s name
I haven’t named my sourdoughit would be an omen,to bring you bread unleavened,faint and flat just like the friendyou hold too dearwho brings you sorrow in betrayal,the sourdoughyou love too […]
Pseudo-Poetry
Elle looked younger than her thirty-something, so when she registered on Tinder it didn’t take long for the creeps to start swiping her. She realized in the way they told […]
Summer, my darling
Summer defeated by frostsulking she left, carried by geesesouthbound leaving for autumnsucculent grapes on the vines, Leaves wrought by wind from the treesleisurely falling. my facelends a cushion briefly beforeleaf […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 