ISSUE FIVE
I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.
Our mission is not a drunken pub-crawl, per se, but examination of all possibilities…
I imagined a cascade of slow death for all / that mattered…
Listen to me: I know
the winter gloom in
mid-summer…
The day does not conclude with the gentle exhale of the earth, but with Mother Superior flipping the hourglass over, again.
another self emerges between assignments, to follow the dog into winter dusk and watch the snow fall. Not sociable, but perceiving
The land here is scarred and wrinkled.
My new neighbor is making a violin from a cigar box. He got the cigar box from a guard. The guard, presumably, got it from outside the Fence.
When Laika the space dog comes back, bulleted to earth in a tiny white escape pod that dissolves upon opening, nobody can believe it.
Every time I come to the forest, it’s different, but so am I.
Every so often, they add a tattoo
in honor of some long-forgotten love.
Directly after the arrival of the Armada, this model made sense, as the gap between Unthulanian and Human cultures prevented a commensurable exchange of practices…
We found in his suitcase T-shirts, his siddur, gifts he bought for his grandchildren…
Even from this distance I could go out
the door it would bang shut and crumble