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