Fat cats
Fat cats, do you really care for anything but you? How people die? And you — have you ever seen how bare a wall of gold can be, how blue […]
Curse upon your night
Damn you Philistines, woe you harlots of Gomorrah, you kings and queens of sharp sodomic salt. I wish upon you flocks of rabid locusts nesting in your hair. I send […]
The last train to Zürich
“But it’s a real Scarampella, I played Dvorak’s cello concerto with Toscanini once”. Jozef thumbed his moth-eaten hat, humbling himself for the meaty pawnbroker. If he closed his eyes he […]
Morphism of my moduli
Derive a morphism from the finite field, project it, come extract it. Let it dwell embedded in momentum of Euclidean space. Let us open manifolds, let curvatures, extend derivative of […]
Books and gardens
My garden is a library, my books are flowerbeds. When leafing through my books I find how flowers in my garden are like poems. A few are buds, in splash […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 