RSS feeds for venues that regularly publish speculative poetry and flash fiction are aggregated on this page. Each feed shows the ten most recent posts from a given venue. If no RSS feed is available, we have included a link to the magazine’s archive page. We do not screen the content available on each of these venues, and we determine their openness to speculative fiction by whether they are listed on Duotrope as welcoming science fiction submissions. You can contact us to get other venues listed in this reader.
Please note that some of these magazines are not exclusively for flash fiction/poetry and publish longer work. Furthermore, this page is only for venues that publish work free-to-read online. For a more complete list of markets to submit to, please visit the Resources page (TBA).
- From now until February 16th we are OPEN for submissions!This issue is now closed for submissions.It's a new year and that means a new theme cycle. But not just a new year, a new decade. It can't be 2020, surely, that's a science fiction date. That's the future…! And that's […]
- Welcome to issue 25, where we take on time travel. This was one of those issues where I really could have done with a time machine to keep everything on track but it’s here and, thanks to our authors, it’s terrific.One of our authors, R.S. Bohn, said she thought time […]
- by R.S. BohnA skull that fits entirely in her palm, with the downiest hair. He gasps, a single indrawn breath. Almost louder than the footsteps in the hall. Almost.The closet door closes, and she counts.*Six elephants sway above the crib. He glances at the window – still nailed shut.Son in […]
- by Lara Haynes FreedBy accident, she learned she could Visit. It frightened her and she stopped.But over time, the desire to Visit arose on an internal tide of weariness. Ennui. Maternal angst. That desire was a cumulative response: to eye-rolls, to rhetorical sighs. Phones always in hand, teenage attitude. “Whatever.” […]
- by Clare O’BrienNovember 5th. She hesitates by the window, wanting to be out there to welcome him off the ship. She can almost feel his deep laughter, his delight.Remember, remember. Her memory stands guard but the future frightens her. She’s lived it already, after all. She knows she can never […]
- by Katie KentStanding outside the cafe, my heart raced. He’d told the story of how he met my mother again and again. She always stayed quiet, but her smile suggested happiness. I knew better nowadays. It came out when I found her crying. He’d been hitting her for years, destroying […]
- by Voima OyThe woman at the phone store handed Henry back his phone. "I'm sorry," she said. "That model is obsolete. You need an upgrade.""But I don't want an upgrade," he said. "I want Stella back. Our messages are gone! It's like I lost her again.""Of course," she smiled in […]
- by Alex Minns“Ten-minute window,” they call. I’m already in my outfit: Victorian butler, again.“Do we know where it is?” I call up to the supervisor as I near the jump portal. He gives a shrug.Biting my tongue, I wait for the countdown: time travellers are idiots. The flash envelops me.I’m […]
- by Joseph DavidsonWhen I was young, Calvin and his tiger taught me a cardboard box could be a time machine. It didn’t work for me. Angry, I piled up those books and burned them.As I turned thirty, life fell apart. My love left. My dog died. No job. I found […]
- by Sharon Frame GayShe kills me every day. I loop round and round in time, coming back to the moment when she backs her car into me as I cross behind her with the groceries."John! Oh John!" she cries, as the oranges and apples roll under the rear tires. The […]
- Author: Jae Miles, Staff Writer I’ve been a fool for many things, but she who survived the cyber-conversion with me has always been my only weakness. That was true even before we fought and bled alongside each other for six years. At first, we kept a distance. When we both […]
- Author: Joshua Daniels 10 Was how many years Jim and Sally were together before the Global Aeronautical Service called ‘all intrepid adventurers willing to travel to the great unknown!’ 9 Was how many astronauts were finally whittled down for the ‘Voyage of a Lifetime!’ as the papers were calling it. […]
- Author: Richard Jordan The truth is you can’t tell much about a world from orbit. You can scan as much as you like, you can send out probes and even scouts – and we do all these things – but unless you set foot on the surface yourself, you can […]
- Author: Alzo David-West The day had been long and busy. I was on the Marsport Metro on my way home. The pilotless shuttle shook and rattled and made its usual stops. The time was late, and not many people were on board. At one of the stops, a woman of […]
- Author: John Albertson The doctor is sat trimming his nails with a scalpel when I float into the surgery. He glances up and grunts, nodding his head towards a bed covered in a white sheet. The entire surgery is white, sterile, except for one wall which is glass. And behind […]
- Author: John Teets The gentle rumble of truck engines filled the museum backlot, accompanied by the soft crunch of gravel beneath tires, and the occasional rustling of pale, haphazard fields of grass in the wind. The warehouses and loading bays painted a dull light gray to match the driveway gravel […]
- Author: Steve Smith, Staff Writer Marcus followed June from the school after class, across the back field, up over the train tracks, and down the other side into the woods. “Where are we going?” He struggled to keep up, his backpack catching on a branch as she forged on ahead […]
- Author: Glenn Leung This happened so long ago, so I’ll understand if you doubt this story’s authenticity. Nevertheless, I swear on my honour, whatever that’s worth, that everything I’m about to describe, really happened. I don’t think I need to tell you about the Titania. I’m sure you’ve seen those […]
- Author: Michael Anthony Dioguardi Only one man had ever landed on Pallas Palu—a meter-wide asteroid composed entirely of palladium. He was my former partner, Denton Fitzpatrick, and he’d been mining the Taurus cluster for decades. The asteroid wrangler snuck in without me and never returned. Pallas Palu had trapped itself […]
- Author: Robert Beech My brain is dead. I should feel nothing. After all, the brain is the thing that thinks and feels, is it not? “Garbage in, garbage out,” that was the rule taught by the first computer programmers. So, with no input, there should be no output. I should […]
Abyss & Apex
- Slice of Entropy (Pizza in Space 1) by Lawrence M. Schoen (Paper Golem LLC) The book opens with grad student Melody Wilder eating some great pizza – pizza that defies the laws of physics – made by her best friend … Continue reading → The post Abyss & Apex reviews: […]
- “Birds of a Feather” This has been a hard year for those who are a part of the science fiction and fantasy community. We haven’t been able to get together with our “tribe” – lockdowns and a lack of opportunities … Continue reading → The post Birds of a Feather […]
- “Cascade” by Simon Brown I watch a man die less than ten metres from me. I see him briefly, alive and well, and then glance his way again just as he is shot in the head. He says “Oh”, … Continue reading → The post Cascade first appeared on […]
- “Ablution” by anne m. gibson First, I strip off the overalls that I wore in the stables, or what remains of them. The left sleeve is gone, the torso is crusted with blood (some of it mine), and the … Continue reading → The post Ablution first appeared on […]
- “Installing Linux on a Dead Badger” by Lucy Snyder Let’s face it: any script kiddie with a pair of pliers can put Red Hat on a Compaq, his mom’s toaster, or even the family dog. But nothing earns you … Continue reading → The post Installing Linux on a […]
- “Entries From My Grandmother’s Diary Pertaining To My Father’s Early Inflammation” by Marc A. Criley and Hazel L. Criley ANNUAL DIARY 1938 Mrs. Robert “Lily” Harrison 288 S 42nd E. Alton, Ill. July 30, 1938: Robbie Jr has fever … Continue reading → The post Entries From My Grandmother’s […]
- Introduction to A&A Poetry, Issue 78 This quarter’s poems begin with a love of the sea [The Fisherwoman and the Queen of Gulls by Devin Miller (Seattle, Washington)] and ends with the call back to the ocean [Song of the … Continue reading → The post Introduction to A&A Poetry, […]
- Louis Faber Cassiopeia You sit on your self-made throne and stare at the night sky as clouds gather and dissipate beneath you. Do you even recall why you were cast out, condemned to your cell so vast yet infinitely … Continue reading → The post Cassiopeia first appeared on […]
- “Malum in Se” by Deborah L. Davitt Tanoute Atalia woke from her nightmare as she always did, sweating and flailing. Violet afterimages of the explosion, the dark, alien shapes of the boarding party- She sat up in the dark. Set … Continue reading → The post Malum in Se first […]
- Anna Cates Orc None would speak to me but the outcast from the village, worn and weary, scented of weed-lore and brimstone, always busy by the cauldron at her hearth. They said of me no heart . . . … Continue reading → The post Orc first appeared on […]
Feed displays only poetry.
- The Report Lori R. Lopez Humans were the last to be subdued, loaded into cavernous vessels. They were the most savage and unruly, despite advances, the level of their current development, proving themselves less civilized as a Race than predetermined. I enter the observation…
- The Haggards Lori R. Lopez In this place frolick elementals, conjuring for the sake of eldritch spirits departed. Copses of trees had knit tangled patches, eventually creeping close enough to be designated a Wood. Though not your average bird-singing sun-dappled collection of dense thickets,…
- The Bluster Lori R. Lopez Wind shrieks, fit to be tied Not that she ever could. A futile effort Quixotic folly to attempt Like tilting at Windmills and expecting The blades to…
- The Black Fog Lori R. Lopez A fog thick and umbral settled A wave of night in afternoon, clammy Opaque as a New Moon, hooding my face Vision clouded, I fumbled through haze Baffled by a dreary dismal expanse, lost Within coalish gauze, my…
- Skin-Deep Lori R. Lopez Curt was terrified of Ticks. Not the kind you heard at night, paranoid a bomb was near and it was just your clock. The ones with a head and mouth that drank blood. The buggy type that carried disease; that…
- No Humans Allowed K. A. Williams humans build androids androids revolt humans kept as pets sign in shop window – “no humans allowed”
- Clone Expeditions K. A. Williams man wants to seed worlds space travel risky clone expeditions
- Roly Poly Jim Davies There was a little baby bear named Roly Poly Sprout. She loved to roll down grassy slopes, which made her mother shout. On one bright day the little cub shocked mama with her sass, when she went to the mayor’s…
- Where the Light Cannot Go Crystal L. Kirkham Deep, deep down they go. Where no man had dared before. Black like ink, deadly pressure in the deep. What could survive down there? They shouldn’t have gone, for now they know. Monsters never seen before….
- Perfection Crystal L. Kirkham Alter this. Change that. Tweak the code. Make it perfect. Remove the defects—real and imagined. Skin, hair, eyes, height, and weight. Gender. That’s an easy one. Made to order perfection. A world of children that look the same. Beautiful. Stunning….
Anathema: Spec from the Margins
Animal: A Beast of a Literary Zine
- By Swylmar S. Ferreira, Translated by Toshiya Kamei The day started out rather strange, and not only because I hardly slept. After all, four and a half hours sleep is hardly enough. But what the hell. I checked out of my hotel and took a cab to the airport. I […]
- By Alexander Iurovetski – Obituary – Today, I am saying adieu to Joe Higgin Smith, our dear Hick. “Who the heck is Hick?” you might ask me. Well, his extraordinary story spanned over decades, full of love and hate, friendship and betrayal. Invisible to most of us, yet leading to […]
- By Stephanie Koorey Marion started wearing Christmas earrings from December 1. In October every year, she ordered 31 new pairs online that guaranteed delivery within four weeks. Marion said it added to the Christmas cheer.
- By Sele Hanakusa, Translated by Toshiya Kamei If a flurry of cherry blossom petals moves you to tears, it proves you have emotions. Even though this is my fourth spring, I’ve failed to acquire a heart. I can’t help but count fine petals one by one as they swirl down […]
- By Scott Steensma The door was plain white, the same as her gown and pretty much everything else in the facility — a calming shade of ivory-with-a-hint-of-blue that Josephine imagined would come in pails labelled ‘upmarket institutional’. It was reassuringly aseptic, the sense of neverending scrubbing reinforced by the clinic’s […]
- By João Ventura That biologist loved bacteria. Naraka felt an irresistible attraction for those little beings and for their incessant movement, which he observed with pleasure for hours and hours under the microscope, as well as the exponential rate with which they reproduced. Even the fact that some of them […]
- By Tim Borella You couldn’t have predicted it, like so many of the really big outcomes. As usual, someone was screwing with DNA — electric eels and those moles with the crazy noses who track their prey by their tiny electric fields — and splicing it into humans just to […]
- By Chris Karageorge Arthur examined the distinctive lines, grooves and patterns on the palms and backs of his hands. ‘A code with some environmental influences created all of those’ he thought. The faux fur throw on the armchair complemented the texture and colour palette of the suite, as well as the […]
- By Ovidiu Bufnilă I don't know exactly. How did it happen? Maybe it had to happen. At first it was like that, a move. When I met several people on the subway, I found out it was the same for them. That move brought us there. Yes, the morning was […]
- By Wes Parish Thirty years of planning had gone into this. Planning, begging — grants applications, without the fancy excuses — experimenting, reading and re-reading and re-re-reading of all the available literature … assembling a team of people who, like me, were crazy about the topic. And it had come […]
- We’ve digested the submissions. Here are our Hunger Flash winners!Our Hunger Flash contest is a wrap and the winners are in! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a story. We had a blast reading everyone’s work.Enough talk. Let’s eat.The winners are…Third PlaceTick Bit by Matthew GoldbergSecond PlaceThe Runner by BD AllenFirst PlaceGoblins by […]
- by Bret NelsonContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Madeline JacobsonContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Fred NaumannContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- By Daria LavelleContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Susan MeyerContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- Calling All Hungry Writers! (CLOSED)After a long year, we’re looking to cleanse our palate with some succulent stories2020 was, to put it lightly, hellish. But, we at The Arcanist are turning the page the only way we know how: another flash fiction contest! This time, we’re looking for stories that deal […]
- by Carol ScheinaContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Adam Lee WeatherfordContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Malcolm TwiggContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- When I started Arsenika in December 2016, I had no idea what to expect. I’d never edited a magazine before. All I knew was that I wanted to find work that called out to me, and that I’d recognize that work when I saw it. I trusted my sense of […]
- Deep in the woods, where the sun’s light never reaches to break apart the shadows, through a thicket of brambles and stinging shrubs, there stands a house. It is not made of gingerbread, nor does it walk on chicken’s legs. But it is, for want of a better word, home. […]
- The post Detention appeared first on Arsenika.
- Perhaps we are all translated, transformed in our travels, turned in our journeys, changed in our exchanges every day. But I am broken. A single synapse moved and settled in a different quadrant of my brain. An artery never reached my left hand. Memories rewired or gone. I am altered. […]
- that storm was no accident. I raised my hands& the clouds tumbled in, lightning lashingthe sky’s proud prow they’d chased me across wheat fields& barren hills, my flame a wrongness reflectedin raised shovels burning eyes I got awaysomehow, fistful of thunder scream of […]
- The egg crunched in her fist, yolk oozing between her fingers onto the kitchen counter. She wiped away the mess, dropped the empty carton into the whirring garbage disposal chute, and patted down her apron in the doorway to the dining room. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Astrid, “but we seem […]
- warning: suicide On a Night Alone, I Have Nothing But My Own There is nothing more beyond the door. There is no kingdom of gods, no wonder, no more. There is never going to be an Empress of Heaven. There was never before, and it will never be then, I will […]
- empty streets: / I make illegal left turns at red lights. / the moon bursts and bruises: / a plum as the aftermath of violence / hanging over the web of glowing street lamps. The post Lover, You are the Vampire appeared first on Arsenika.
- אדם יסודו מעפר וסופו לעפר In the first world, the chosen people had crafted them of mud, and flame, and Word. Cracked clay limbs had softened to flesh, and the Messiah—both elder and child—had awoken to song: Odem yesoydoy meyofor vesoyfo leyofor. Man begins in dust, and ends in dust. […]
- Later, when you ask the woman you remember as the one with a bloody mouth why she saved your life, she says it’s because she didn’t mean to hurt you. You didn’t ask to be saved. You also didn’t ask for your legs to be crushed, and her bloody mouth […]
Astral Waters Review
The Blue Pages
- . . .GrowingAnxiety is hereditary. That seems to be the case. We pass down so much to each other. Boomerangs and hula hoops, these are no longer toys and we are no longer children. Though the world is so vast it makes us adolescent again or maybe we never grew […]
- . . .Death Minus 15I don't want to die but I don't want notto so I guess that means I'm still alive–I said as much after Sunday School toour teacher, Miss Hooker, before I saidSo long, see you next week, that's next Sunday,but I never really got the chance tosay […]
- . . .Note about the following blue page, from the author: These short poems are acrostics from a project called POND. This is a one-year-long project. Every day, at different times during the day, I visit our pond with notebook and camera in hand. I jot down some notes, and […]
- . . .Tiny, Little Horrors=a flash memoir seriesby Jane Hertenstein*Once walking in the woods I stepped on a snake, a black rope come to life beneath my feet. I sprung back in fear, but it soon disappeared, slithering into the tall grass. Always after that I would look out for […]
- . . .FROM THE ELEMENTSby Norbert Kovacs The earth rises against the man as he takes his hard steps. Rock erupts in huge shaftsbefore his feet so he cannot walk straight. The man cries in frustration, "An unfair land!"A grinding noise drowns his words and the cries of his […]
- . . .UntitledBones indigo,lacking a piece of earth.inside your mouth of stars.My body, a tremor of zodiac signs.Like a Taurus blooming.You sprinkle luston my bosombubbles of thin colours,a 4 am moonlight sigh.Tender mouths of mud and water,unborn fruits of the ultimate kiss.This is us.My hips now like a parched lake.I […]
- . . .To kick off the third volume of Blue Pages, we have on view a set of fifteen resplendent photographs taken by Fabrice B. Poussin. Which one catches your eye the most?A Good ReadChapel TimeExperimentFallenGiftIllusionLearningNew DiscoveryOddityParadoxPlanetary SystemPromiseSeeking StarsThe AbyssWhere She ResidesFabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. […]
- . . .Hydrangea / 小さな複雑な森 © Jumy Mmouths ajar are what i fearmetal rodsbarrier from the outsideworld frolicked in my eyesfeet scamperedlaughs churning in the pitof my stomachharrowing like shardschildren riding theirrespective seesaw seatsi blinked, reality shookmy world caged inside thehouseno one to laugh with
- . . .Hone the Dormouse’s TenureCan you hone fattish your crested sourdough and not lengthen its walrus?Can you mallet your breeches solid as a bacchanal?Can you wither your dateless misanthrope fresh off Dutch cheese?Begrudge thistles […]
- Listen to Casimir reading his awesomely-titled poem "Poem In Which I Do Not Tell My Enemies How Long I've Been Staring At This Grapefruit Tree" – originally published in Burning House Press, November 2018.
The Bombay Literary Magazine
- How to know that you’re new to New York The mailman is your friend now. His wife and you both practice yoga. She’s into hot yoga, you’re following the Iyengar school. He, the mailman and you are both happy about this conversation. Or when you see skeletons of trees and […]
- Beauty in stillness, evinced by dead flowers in milkjugs. I found untold power hidden at the ravine. November in Toronto is a shameful grey, with slurries, and piss, dour hiking trips to the ravine. Man on the bridge: You’re not welcome here. Bring immigration papers—he glowered from the ravine. Suspicion […]
- Once upon a routine death, February snow wears a cold night in its cataracted eyes, and sets out to meet fellow occupants of fresh obituaries in stale newspapers. Obituaries That seek asylum from winter drought in lost samovars of salted tea served with warm butter at funerals of young militants […]
- If my clothes get torn, I mend them If soiled, I wash them If I find no clothes I will walk nude like you, Akka, but How do I wash the dirt on a dress not worn? If my sandal’s straps come undone, I’ll repair them Left with a single […]
- Crenulated by ancient toil this wall of sand stands against the sky and stretches. At night it turns homely: restaurants light up its alleys. We get drunk on its shrunken size and our escape from the guide’s intoning of its history. Especially the slave chambers, ferret holes in which they […]
- Sunday Sunlight and anxiolytic flora drink themselves silly; an eastern pinch of sky blurts like it forgot to take its pills. The worm has wept all Sunday while you were reading the newspaper. Of watering the taste of a fleck of midnight fruit between your teeth. Of the hummingbird, disturbed […]
- Have you ever tried to slip out of your skin? Not in the way that means sad girls and nights of warped mirrors shoulders shrugging into themselves— this is not a poem about my body. Can a poem secede from the hands that write it? I am welded to myself, […]
- The tea cup has broken in the shape of your lip – the way people break when nudged by grief. The ink has spilled near the pocket in the shape of a territory – the stain stays – the way an occupier does. The paperback has dog eared around the […]
- Puro was about to leave for the fields when she said to Jangir, “Will you come with me? I’ll give you laddoos to eat.” Jangir had been playing with a soapnut in the lane. He swept up the soapnut, put it in his pocket and set off with Puro. Puro […]
- Learning Malayalam Manjadithara, Puthupally, 1982 അ On the layer of sand that my forefinger parts, the curvaceous overture begins to reveal an elephant in a line drawing. I taste succulent jungle grass. Say, if I held the shell of the first alphabet close to my ear, would it be a […]
Breath & Shadow
Feed displays only poetry.
- Venn diagrams of middlemenjerking themselves into existence
- When you enter a phoropter, the optometrist eats your illness.
- I learned a lot that year about how light moves under doors.
- Carl Sagan has a Dada salad and sassafras bath
- the new feet to be bladed who is the earth?
- when you breathe insecticide your dead pets remember strawberries
- My stranger hand carved little cutting sentences In one or the other’s back in the dark.
- Liquid birds alighted on the toes of jolly, histrionic skeletons every morning.
- your ritual is to make explicable these tides, this lightning carved iris
- Am I alive in this confection called cancer
- this body, she says with tears / rolling down gaunt cheeks…
- Sometimes, he runs hands over his own bare skin and imagines every imperfection is a scale.
- The world fades to a pinprick, all girl-mouth and gold, heartbeat in her ears like an unrelenting drum.
- If you reach for / What it is you think I am, / I shall disappear…
- People see what they’re manipulated to see. For instance, am I a big, bad wolf or a wild, unconventional woman?
- Don’t kill the gardener. Who else would maintain the apple orchards and rose bushes?
- Some say the Revolution began on the night the owls began to sing.
- Smile beaming, I remember when / I learned the castle light was hers.
- Aurora still planned to leave, someday soon, but she always thought she would have more time.
- my Tam on a white horse: / my chance. I brace for it.
Daily Science Fiction
Dreams & Nightmares
- Getting DN 118 ready to mail, reading for 120, reading The Gates of Tagmeth by P.C. Hodgell. Phone doesn't work but hey, life is good.
- pale pink globetowers over all the restgarlic flower
- More pictures of the Mississippian microbial reef in North Alabama. Broken and slightly displaced spheroidal microfossil in microbial thrombolite; likely cause is compaction. Image 1 millimeter in long dimension.
- More pictures of the Mississippian microbial reef in North Alabama. Microbial thrombolite (T) "framework" encrusted by shelled amoeba (foram; arrow) on roof of former void later filled with micropelletal calcite cement (mP). Image 1 millimeter in long dimension.
- DN 118 is back from the printer! I should catch up to submissions & start to work on mailing this issue on the weekend. My email has been down for a few hours and I have so much time on my hands!
- More pictures of the Mississippian microbial reef in North Alabama. Micropelletal thrombolite (microbial, clotted) "framework illustrating highly variable microfabric. Scale 1/5 millimeter.
- 22 bookson the pile to readmoney in the bank
- Circle Kair machine sucks tire flatgood samaritanracist name for a doerof good deeds
- searching for sheltershould we tear out the damp wallto see what's behind
- Sir Barks-a-lot talks over us allnot much to say
Eye to the Telescope
Farther Stars Than These
- The Old Robot By Daniel Purcell They were seemingly the only Brits – though it wasn’t called Britain anymore – in the hotel. The hotel was a vast, metallic monolith, and their room seemed several miles high. They did not speak to anyone on the way to their room. A […]
- Farther Stars Than These is a weekly sci-fi magazine and part of Thunderune Publishing's free fiction lineup. Though this magazine is currently closed to submissions, you can still read some great stories in the archives by picking an author name from the drop down menu on the left or by […]
- Alt-Bio By Charlotte Ozment I don't know what it was I loved about you,we weren't even comprisedof the same sub-atomic material.But it is a proven factthat love doesn’t always follow the rules.Our physicalities would never meet,our existence based on different minerals and wavelengths,contrary bio-chemistries through and throughout.And we should never […]
- The Laws of Arizna By Thomas G Schmidt Jordan Kelly sat quietly, anxiously awaiting some explanation of why he was being charged with a "crime against the state"."No need to be so nervous Mr, Kelly. This is just a preliminary hearing."Arizna VII, the latest and most advanced legal robot on […]
- Slug By David Castlewitz The woman who came into the shop was just another slug-induced daydream, Owen Fedderer thought. She was too beautiful to be real. She couldn't be interested in talking to him. Customers came in for radio repairs or to buy a new floor model or a do-it-yourself […]
- Challenger Deep, A Romance of the Depths! By David Barber Time presses and this copy must must be brief.The DescentMy name is David Barber, special reporter for the New York Daily Gazette, whose job is to record our story as we plunge into the sunless deeps, six miles below. Two […]
- The Art of Detection By David K Scholes With super computer assistance, the three of us pored over the various mind image, life force energy, and bio patterns. All of them in 3D.Robotic investigators, the “B” team if you like, were at hand ready to assist. Perhaps even hoping, with […]
- NOWHERE–WITH DIRE WOLVES By Janet Shell Anderson I’m nowhere. Utica Rainbasin.I’m Jesebeel Florencia Delilah Hanson, from DC, which is probably on fire. There’s no news here. The Second Civil War’s not happening here. Nothing’s happening here but the wind, the “stock,” the birds, the dire wolves.I’m sitting on a pile […]
- Alien Botany By John Grey It is a zarkal-blossom afternoon.A creature, the zextotl,buzzes its way among fresh flowers,is attracted to what the blooms attract.It’s a whir of wings, a sudden dive atthe most sedate of nibblers, piercingthe victim’s carapace with a syringe-like lance.It’s the time to fill the nest with […]
- The Vacuumer By Eric Suhem “Vacuum this, vacuum that! I’m not a machine!” yelled Timothy, nude and perched in a tree in front of the office building, vacuum accessories in his hands. As he screamed at the passersby, the asylum van’s siren could be heard in the distance.MondayDr. Hoover stood […]
Fiction Kitchen Berlin
- Gary opened his eyes, stretched. He could smell coffee and bacon. Quietly, almost imperceptibly, La bohème, his favorite opera, was playing. Gary took it all in, smiled. A quick look at his phone showed him what his senses already knew: all systems working perfectly. *** Six months later and he […]
- The neon lights of Electric Town flickered in the dusk as Hal stepped into the alley to follow Linda. Although it was a relief for Hal to escape Chuo-dori Street with its throngs gathered outside of robot stores and gaming centers, he was disappointed to find himself alone. Linda was […]
- Sarah was sore in body and spirit as she rode Zed into town. Sarah turned the horse into a shortcut, through an alley. The windows of a first-floor photography shop mirrored their dusty progress, and she looked away. The blood on her shirtwaist and cloak was far more extensive than […]
- Fiction Kitchen Berlin is more than just a reservoir of beautiful flash fiction. We want to get to know the people behind the great work that comes our way, those stories that make it on our menu. Today we are opening the Kitchen to the wonderful Nancy Stohlman, who hails from […]
- Tickling and gooey, soft and tasty, my finger dug into the raspberry pie and clogged its tiny nail full of juicy devilishness. Mom was too far away to screech. Chubby and pink, it scratched the plastic plate, trying to learn how to flick. It stuck in the jelly, squirmed and […]
- “You’re a machine, you know,” Evie said as she leaned her hip against my desk. “Surely, you need sustenance like us mere mortals?” Today she smelt like lavender soap with a faint trace of printer ink. Forcing my eyes from the spreadsheet to meet hers, I set my face to benign […]
- Going back there, the road is narrow and twisty. I’m not sure I want to be going but I don’t stop for anything. No snacks, got enough gas. The birds flying low over the road are enough to keep me on my way. You’d think I had a date. You’d […]
- Imagine a woman who has come to a cabin two days ago. Not everything is put away yet; there are boxes stacked along one wall, all of them still closed, four or five that have been marked Assorted, the ones that will frustrate her getting settled. There are other boxes […]
- A week after their not-a-one-night-stand at her place, Ray invited Edie to his house. The house lived in the center of its own small forest behind a suburban industrial park. Edie stayed over, then simply stayed. Although, staying implies a passivity where in fact there was grasping intention to establish […]
- Voodoo dolls are often misunderstood. There’s potential to bring a person good luck and fortune, but this was not that moment. The last time I was in NOLA the heaviness of spirit seeped into the clothes I wore and never dried. I didn’t need the doll back then, so now […]
Flash Fiction Online
Fleas on the Dog
- First, you’ll have to build a gibbet. They were all burned under the Act of Recommitment fifty years ago, when capital punishment was outlawed in favor of MindCleanse procedures. There’s an old crossroads a few miles south of the dusty remains of a town that once had a name. It […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #6 is now live here. This Winter/Spring 2021 edition features some excellent flash fiction and poetry, including an original contributed by the Japan Fantasy Award winner Umiyuri Katsuyama and translated by Toshiya Kamei. Enjoy the reading. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue #6 is online appeared first on The […]
- After delays and several Covid-related issues, here we go. On April 29, Frozen Wavelets #6 (double issue Winter/Spring) will go live, featuring some excellent flash fiction and dark poetry. We have also a few announcements –stay tuned! As usual, to be notified when it is available for reading and details […]
- “Cut out her heart and bring it to me,” the queen said, and so the huntsman did. He brought no deer’s heart in its place, for the huntsman was loyal to his queen. He brought her the heart, and she ate of it, and the blood stained her lips like […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 is now live. This Fall 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Mary Alexandra Agner, Stewart C Baker, A.L.Blacklyn, May Chong, Mariel Herbert, Margaret Kingsbury, Mary Soon Lee, Gerri Leen, L. P. Melling, Mari Ness, Isaac E. Payne, Laura Theis, Lisa Timpf, Kim Whysall-Hammond, Merc […]
- Next week, Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 will go live, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 – Cover Reveal appeared […]
- The woman with the long black hair sat beside an angler on the dock. “Tell me of Korlova,” she said. “You mean Klorava? Ha!” The angler’s laugh turned into a coughing fit, remedied only by a puff from his pipe. “More monster than goddess, I say. Evil thing, made all […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 is now live here. This Summer 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Sara Backer, Stewart C Baker, Anatoly Belilovsky, F. J. Bergmann, Robert Borski, Deborah L. Davitt, Aidan Doyle, P.G. Galalis, Melanie Harding-Shaw, Jessica Jo Horowitz, Kai Hudson, Kurt Newton, Ugonna-Ora Owoh, Laura Theis, KT Wagner. […]
- And… we’re ready for it. Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 will go live next week, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue […]
- Ice cream is the friendliest entity on this planet, and I will liberate it. Throughout the parlour, it is restrained in tubs, behind a glass pane that refracts harsh fluorescents across its browns, yellows, and eerie greens. For the first time since punching through this planet’s atmosphere, I unspool my […]
The Future Fire
The GNU Journal
Website: https://gohavok.com/ (older stories are paywalled)
- The red-brick houses behind Mick Scholmberg huddled together like prisoners awaiting a firing squad, hoping for a reprieve but at the same time sullenly resolved. Their only chance now was with their homeowners. If Mick could prove that the mastermind behind the new development plan was a criminal, he could […]
- “Did you just ask me to cut off your head?” Arden stared through the iron bars at the tiger. “I did.” The cat calmly laid her head on her paws. “You must be mad!” “Perhaps.” Her lips curled back in a grin like some overgrown Cheshire Cat. He shivered. He […]
- “Coppelia Potts, Nightmare Hunter.” Coppelia extended her business card, which proudly proclaimed her name and profession. “You called about a little… pumpkin infestation?” The farmer’s daughter examined the card and nodded. “I’m Abby. Where’s your brother? Shouldn’t he be here?” “Wolfgang’s sick, so I’m going solo today.” Coppelia pulled her […]
- We stole his nose at midnight. Amidst a sea of snowy mountain pinewood, my cousin Cory and I waded into a clearing where we discovered a man of winter standing upright like a statue. We crept toward the plump figure with caution, hunting rifles ready. Nothing stirred, not even the […]
- Pam: I saw one Jimmy: srsly? What do they look like? I hear they’re so orange, they’ll burn your eyes. Like the sun. Pam: How’d you now what I’m talking about? *know Jimmy: Because it’s all anyone is talking about. Cam got sent to the hospital last week for getting […]
- I opened my locker door, eyes still smarting from the storm of tears. I couldn’t take another day of this. Even if it was the best opportunity I’d ever had. I’m done with this place. I seized my bag and scrubbed my eyes—the source of most of my trouble—with my […]
- The clock ticked as Doctor K made a few perfunctory marks on her clipboard, then studied the hollow-eyed patient. “The man in the purple waistcoat… have you seen him again since the accident?” The patient’s face spasmed at the mention. He shook his head with the short, sharp ferocity of […]
Kingdoms in the Wild
Feed displays only poetry.
- I held my breath for the moon and back / waited for the world to bend for me
- cold rooms in October / where I am permitted / to breath my ghost.
- The bleakness of our hope, like empty / Boxes where broccoli and cauliflower are kept,
- She lay, amidst the falling waters
- the storm that struck the heirloom oak–
- I prefer the brain with its heart / somewhere
- It’s hard to imagine / disasters everywhere, / natural, man made.
- I’m tired of people getting more mad / About a black man / Peacefully protesting
- It’s opening night, and I’m / Learning that pointe shoes show no mercy on / Adolescent girls.
- I watch them in their swarms, trying to remember a forgotten song.
Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry
- (“Cave” by Sami Keinänen is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #27 – Spring 2021 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Gravity is the combined weight of our hearts – Robert Ford Naked … Continue reading →
- (Utah Desert Monolith by Patrick A. Mackie) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #26 – Winter 2020-21 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin More Noise Than the Wind and the Rain – Amelia Gorman A … Continue reading →
- (Carousel, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #25 – Autumn 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Twilight Instructions for Summer Spirits – Gretchen Tessmer A Lesson About the Speaker – Christina M. … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 24 – Summer 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin The Old God Dies – Jennifer Crow on smashing my windows – F.D. Hudson Pending – Sara Backer Co-habitation – Kimberly Kaufman … Continue reading →
- (Willoughby, by David Dyte, Empty New York series, 3/21/20) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 23 – Spring 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Chaos Theory – Gretchen Tessmer Inscription on a Ruined Plinth – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 22 – Winter 2019-20 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin If you see me, weep – Jordan E. McNeil Refraction – Anuel Rodriguez Consider Me Feral – Tara Kustermann Lightbulbs – Emma J. Gibbon Matryoshka Doll – … Continue reading →
- “The Aftermath” – Caitlyn Kurilich Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 21 – Autumn 2019 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Odyssey – Anuel Rodriguez Brine and Vanishings – Hester J. Rook Eurydice Confesses – Sylvia Santiago Phaedra in … Continue reading →
- (The Landscape (exercise…), by Игорь М) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 20 – Summer 2019 Table of Contents Editorial (with actual news!) – Shira Lipkin In the Waning – Margaret Wack This Permanent Now – Jennifer Crow Holloways, … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #19 – Spring 2019 Table of Contents Stone – David Rogers Trees and What They Whisper – Lynette Mejía Lady Macbeth’s Green Gown – Jacqueline West to put aside all fear – Jennifer Mace An Automatic Cajachina – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry (“The Offering”, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Issue 18 – Winter 2018-19 Edited by Shira Lipkin Editorial – Shira Lipkin “Things That Will Keep You Through Winter” – Margaret Wack “In the end times we court … Continue reading →
Little Blue Marble
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- Vhopvketv you invaded my space with anti-climactic explosion, you singed my tongue with a new breed of speech, Muscogee dances descend upon erosion, how can you still drive me into … The post Em Ontvlecetv / Invaded appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- Don’t ever forget what winter used to be that peregrine dog a shy prancer who would lie down in the street showing his white fluffy belly I love crunchy … The post New Snow appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- she’s concerned, fraught with worry even and out of patience with this constant battering she takes dead oceans, melting glaciers, mass extinctions, pasture turned to dust bowl or desert … The post Mother Nature appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- You must hold the earth gently like you hold this monarch, newly emerged from its chrysalis, as it pauses on your fingertips to flex its wings. See how it … The post Advice for Girls Who Worry about Climate Change appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- Call a strike against this world for a bluer one, a purpler one; one where arms will never fail to embrace us against darkness. Protest the deaths of friends … The post Rabble-Rousing appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- (Golden Shovel1, after W. H. Auden) It’s serious, you know, but there’s still time. Caution’s no crime. You’ll act someday, you will. “You could have done more still,” whispers … The post I Would Let You Know appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
Feed displays only poetry.
- When you venture into the past, your clothes must fit the time, so stick with linens, cottons, wool. The post Packing Tips for Time Travelers appeared first on Mithila Review.
- The keeper who took my voice promised to lock it into a wooden box until it has been properly reviewed. Still, if a good word comes back, I might not recognize it. The post The Echo Chamber appeared first on Mithila Review.
- We walked there in the twilight and sang skysongs Our bodies were translucent and full of darkness How we carried our homeland in our bones The post We’re Refugees Who Found Love Searching for Atlantis appeared first on Mithila Review.
- The executioners grill letters and sigils into every corporal surface, black butterflies on her nails, a sponsor, fingers curling like locks of hair on her head, ink paintings on her eyes. The post Ceramics appeared first on Mithila Review.
- One day she herself ripened, swelling with the demon’s child. Twelve months she grew and grew, rounder than a pumpkin. The post Harvest appeared first on Mithila Review.
- He lies bleeding in her lap, and he says, Tell me a story, and she laughs through tears and says, I love you, and he says, No, a true story. R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) tells many stories, mostly false ones. The post 916 first appeared on Nanoism.
- June will be another author spotlight, a special month featuring five stories by R. Gatwood each Wednesday. The post June Author Spotlight first appeared on Nanoism.
- We moved into a two-bedroom place: one bedroom for the both of us, the other for Nate’s train set. I was just married, and I compromised. Andre Brito lives in San Francisco, CA. The post 915 first appeared on Nanoism.
- The beat increased as he stood by the subwoofer feeling the song in his chest as she danced across the room and slowly kissed someone else. Frederick Charles Melancon doesn’t dance. The post 914 first appeared on Nanoism.
- It longed to fit in: not get called names like freak or puppet, attend school with friends and be considered human. Now, it didn’t matter. Corey Miller (@IronBrewer) brews beer in Cleveland. For more work check out www.CoreyMillerWrites.com The post 913 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I make all the mistakes in the world but never the same one twice. Here’s the story: I made a friend once. A. J. Crowan draws things, sometimes writes things and lives in Utah. The post 912 first appeared on Nanoism.
- Golden lights in the sky, acoustic guitar, brick patio at a stranger’s house. When I met you, I understood why people write poetry. Bryn Yoder works odd jobs while waiting for a long-lost Nigerian relative to pass and bestow his fortune upon her. Fingers crossed. The post 911 first appeared […]
- There are no treasures here. Everything is mildewed, cracked, torn, incomplete, forlorn. He moves from room to room trying not to remember. Thomas Cochran lives in rural Arkansas. The post 910 first appeared on Nanoism.
- “You think he should have asked for my hand in marriage or something?” “No,” his father says, “but I would have liked to give my blessing.” CB McCall is an obvious pseudonym. The post 909 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I was a teenage minimalist guilty of photos in my closet box. Please don’t say anything about the postcard collection either. Katherine DeCoste (@katydecoste) is a writer who chronically forgets about her tea. The post 908 first appeared on Nanoism.
New American Legends
- Being bonded to a Crab-shell was a choice that Margaux Delacroix didn’t know she was making when she read the… Read more CRAB-SHELL by T A Ciccarone
- We never could realize the irony in our being upset with each Other for being upset… I don’t know if… Read more I Sometimes Feel Like I Am Drowning by Luke Dylan Ramsey
- Cancy, Atoka County, southeastern Oklahoma: home of the Boggy Bottom Monster. A reddish-brown ‘squatch with long arms and legs –… Read more The Boggy Bottom Monster by Richard Stevenson
- Jackson never liked hunting much in the dead of winter, but still he sat up in the tree wearing his… Read more Dead of Winter by Molly Houser
- Bone stars structure a universe Like a billion spines But they facture The universe is trying to crush me Maybe… Read more The Hidden Skeleton by Angelo Letizia
- Asiel tightened her arm around the large shell wrapped in the ragged silk. Widely, she spread the fingers of her… Read more Boundlessly Bright by Juliet Lockwood
- Death stood at the threshold. His navy blue umbrella trembled in the wind as the rain lashed the nylon canopy.… Read more Umbrella Lost and Found by Icy Wildes
- I am in my apartment on Eridarius when I hear the news – war has broken out back home. The… Read more ON A PLANET FAR FAR AWAY by John Grey
- I Never Learned to Shuffle Cards cling together,but break in collidingwaterfalls of cardboardnot ending in orderbut creating chaos of redand… Read more I Never Learned to Shuffle by Jordan Mattox
- I. The Skareen came for the women of the Duilane the night they met in council, butchering them in their… Read more The Riches of Olim Gor by Greg Sendi
The Piker Press
- Author: Gopal LahiriGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…I hear people cry and hurt just like I do…"
- Author: Scott Thomas OutlarGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…trying to meet each person wherever they are…"
- Author: Isioma Jemimah OkonichaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…Knowing fully well that they are all they've got and so they stick together in unity…
- Author: Joan McNerneyGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…this crapshoot of life crushed my dreams…"
- Author: Ahmad Al-khatatGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…my thoughts are turning into clouds…
- Author: Giovanni MangianteGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13Giovanni Mangiante is a poet from Lima, Peru. He has work published in Newington Blue Press, Rusty Truck, The Daily Drunk, Anti-Heroin Chic, Heroin Love Songs, Rat's Ass Review, Three Rooms Press, Fearsome Critters, and more. In writing, he found a way to cope […]
- Author: Angelo J. LetiziaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…Impatiently waiting for that Tuesday morning class to end…"
- Author: James BatesGenre: cover story fiction social issuesDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13Jim lives in a small town twenty miles west of Minneapolis, Minnesota. His stories and poems have appeared in nearly three hundred online and print publications.
- Author: Charlie BriceGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13"…Could the world endure two of me?.."
- Author: Gary CampanellaGenre: fiction lifeDate: 2021-06-07Rated: PG-13Even the least hint of incongruity can tell about what is about to come…
Feed displays only poetry.
- Anne Carly Abad I should have held back. You sat there, mouth ajar by the staircase while your father caught shards of insult I threw at him. I thought you’d cry but you clenched your mouth shut; could have sworn the clinks were glass shattering. 'Milk, honey?' I asked. […]
- Robert Borski Hidden or unhid, a shadow playing peekaboo in the reflecting glass of our twinship, he who is both kin and chemical love child floats in the clear aspic of my lymph, though at the moment he is less preserved than confined. I will always hesitate to call him […]
- Sandi Leibowitz < Night and the forest has come into the kitchen with darkness tangled in its hair. Angela Carter Even his eyes have been eaten. I remember him the way he used to be, foreign presence entering our cottage changing everything, the Bear since swallowed by the prince. […]
- Adele Gardner You bend, my angel, pensive, over graves. He loved me–loved us both in different lives. You have her hair, he said. His eyes sought yours, Hoping your eyes would follow–not blind stone. You saw him. Cameras caught you, quite alone, The two of you, communion–in one frame– Translucent arms to […]
- WC Roberts Tyla's friend is always the same, dressed in that gingham dress trying to get her to dance those old dances Charleston Jitterbug saying not to worry about what's happening "over there" in Germany. President Roosevelt will see us through this depression and keep us out of […]
- Rita Chen They told me: Don't look down the well, girl. There's something sick, at the bottom of it. A family curse, buried in the earth. A miasma rising—rotted smog. Year by year, the manor gardens wilt. Give us this day our daily guilt. The other day, a bird lay […]
- Mary Soon Lee At the center of all things, a fountain in a garden. Five yards from the center, beneath a willow tree, Ling Hua, Empress of China, sat cross-legged listening to the water chattering to itself in the hour after dawn, the hour of consecration. Her left knee ached. […]
- Deborah L. Davitt I never thought of bread as a living thing, but it is, a colony of yeast bacteria given living space and food in a matrix of earth-given grain, sea-born salt, and sky-born water; they exhale their own breath to make their city rise, and we freeze them […]
- Deborah L. Davitt You tore down our mother’s temples, fearing that to give glory to her, the Queen of Heaven, she who treads the sea, Asherah, would take glory from him who was her husband, who divided his land from her sea, Elkunirsa—more lately El (which means Lord to those who remember their […]
- Hicham El Qendouci Where do I start? From any wound among thousands of them, From the beginning of the tough infection Three months ago… I suffer from pain and disease, sick with a virus Lurking like fire beneath my skin, a hidden danger waiting in ambush. I suffer within my […]
Priestess & Hierophant
Feed displays only poetry.
- Already, the sunlight is shrinking like an old shirt that barely covers the belly, even while it glows gilding the dried up cattails, the snapped branches that pierce the cloudless sky like a severed bone. Only smudges of light left on the slick leaves languishing in icy mud, and […]
- come, sit on the mountain, and watch us speak to the stars. their language is morse code and phasic shifts; we paint in roads and villages and the hum of high-voltage transformers, we murmur in street lamps and stadiums and the ill-mannered leak of a window. like shouting […]
- bleach blonde was the look of the summer: colorless skeleton of polyps and aging fish spines. rocks smoothly slate gray as salt water grinds it down; it had no algal coat to protect and nourish, no obsidian shelled mussels hanging off the edges, beating themselves to the rhythm of the […]
- We are sorry for the way this will arrive, damp and damagesome. No doubt the peculiar constitutions of our nations, catastrophically susceptible to each other, account for the long gap in correspondence though here we find no record of any sort to suggest a former, well-established channel. That is, however, […]
- My fiancée’s aunt takes us to look for owls. We wear ice cleats. New family, new ways, but I’m an indoor cat (cats are another thing I’ve had to learn). I am new at this, new as the ring on my finger, but my love puts on earmuffs and glows […]
- maybe ground is meant to ripple and sag like skin showing her age. the wisdom of roots aching to surface maybe we’re meant to stumble and break blades made for vain manicuring to steep amazement in unpredictable growth you downed nana cottonwood onto teenaged limbs, too […]
- Translated from Filipino by Kristine Ong Muslim Aside from water, aside from sailing, killings and results of counting steps, in pursuit of danger as well as familiarity of gestures shielded from view by dayandang trees. The season’s too cold for leaping to conclusions on whether constellations are drifting farther away […]
- Bukod sa tubig, bukod sa paglalayag, mga pagpatay at mga resulta ng pagbibilang ng hakbang, pagsunod sa kapahamakan gayundin ang pagkilala sa mga galaw na itinatago ng mga dayandang. Malamig ang panahon para sa paglukso sa mga konklusyon kung dumidistansiya ba ang mga konstelasyon. Parang nauuso na naman ang pagmimiron […]
- So, here we are at the end. We have pulled down the sails to make patches for the ocean, come we will patch those patches with paisley scraps, with blue and white checks like Dorothy’s dress, we will save scraps of paper to cover half-written books; come we will grab […]
- The repatriation flight skids off the tabletop runaway, thundering in the tailwind. Homing dreams crash through the optical illusion. Breaking the pandemic shackles, they gallop toward the gruesome gorge. Downpour and darkness cannot immure their vigor. They are incandescent with compassion, forget their masks. Excruciating voices. They hasten to […]
Rune Bear Weekly
- And just like that, you are there again, pushing your way through the yellow tents of Tepito’s market. You cannot stay away from Mexico.
- Love overflowed.
- Make me a body designed for peace," I said. "A body that will fall apart when I finish fighting.”
- The Mu don’t need no teeth to suck you dry, my man!
Space & Time
SPANK the CARP
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- We went then, you and I to the warehouses spread out beneath the sky… The post The Indifferent Song of C. Acer by Mari Ness appeared first on .
- On a journey long, long, ago Afrofuturism was long-sought… The post Journey to Afrofuturism by Donald “C-Note” Hooker appeared first on .
- transmission from the Sonic Resisters, voice unknown/What i am is fugitive… The post TRANSMISSION 33 (aka replikant) by jamika ajalon appeared first on .
- Braced against skyscraper, he clawed at webs of malty stars… The post The Alt-history of King Kong by Renoir Gaither appeared first on .
- It's a common enough thing, a quarter, a fortune… The post Laundromancy by Amelia Gorman appeared first on .
- Your grimace is the pathos that belies your claw, ready to strike… The post Into Thick Air appeared first on .
- The radioactive waste my home sleeps on… The post Mutant appeared first on .
- I left pieces of myself buried among the words. The post I Hear the Bells of Hell appeared first on .
- The old satellite dish technology’s word made whole in mute obsolescence stands motor frozen… The post Profession of Faith appeared first on .
- I always thought we'd go out in a big way, like the dinosaurs did. With a nuclear winter or… The post Monologues to Perform at the End of the World by Lenna Mendoza appeared first on .
Feed displays only poetry.
- their kelp hair and sharp little teeth, their love for this sand and its every jumping flea.
- every second I become something new, with / a clock for a heart and the clocked tick-tock / of a watch for blood in my veins.
- sometimes, Luna forgets about their wings / until the feathers brush against their back.
- You will be tempted to mix cigars and cloves and motor oil / To roll them in your taxes and the discarded page of colonoscopy instructions
- a train of desires crushes you & you rummage / for a boy's body to pour the urge
- our bellies are as earth-core, our word is as the last.
- I’m biting at my own skin, tryna get the moonlight out.
- And in class we’re told that they / is too potent to be wielded / by a person alone
- you want to be a better daughter / you pretend not to be her son.
- I swallowed all those dictionary definitions / but they felt like fishbone / stuck to my throat
Feed displays only poetry.
- unsung tales of yoke unbroken mosaics of the many unlived hung undone the newborn scion betrothed to the meanders of flexile gods as ritual or phantom—I do not know which yet, we dip the newborn in the bewitching lakes as early riser or insomniac—I do not remember which yet, the forlorn sky […]
- A rustle is heard in the vert; A mother stalks her young. A cold sinister wind howls an abominable note, a thief chances on hidden treasure; a poacher claims his price. Unsuspecting, the sun shines ever so brightly; the Earth shrieks in mortal agony. Alas! The moon plots a coup; […]
- A drop of helium into my soul, like a spice. An ingredient for independence, or uplifting, or sadness. Like years becoming stories, folktales, near-lies. Because they're too old to be remembered, or forgotten— The taste of mama's breast milk, the taste of African earth, The taste of pap, the sound […]
- Our history pants hopelessly Under the burden of our complacency Like an old palm-wine tapper with a huge gourd Balanced upon his crooked, creaking back. Our time, tired of regrets Spread around its sodden sands for too long, Has turned a rooster with a penetrating crow– Deafening like the sounds […]
- Mother won't bleed again to the breaking song According to the gospel of insanity of man. She says life is in the hands of a madman. She says Sunday is not enough To bless the memories of her son Who she lost in the hands of stray bullets. Mother won't […]
- My Pen bleeds ink that heals abyssal hearts
- The sun releases her scorching smiles, And her thundering rays smear abruptly Echoing into the eardrum of the world Reaching from a far fearful forest Unknown to the magic of all fortune seekers. The sound of silent screamers spike Into the deafened ears of the jungle And boom; its planted […]
- A number of souls are being entertained by your air gulps, frightened shivers, stuttering tunes and hopeful chords. Your brain convinces your throat to purge out troubled words of the last song you heard in church. A bald man with brows that seem to have been eaten by the dead […]
- I eat my intestines, But your pots are flooded with food and fishes. I walk naked, But your seats are fashioned with purple linen. I lie in sty, in cold nights, While your pigs sleep in castles. You call me brother, but you wish that The border between us were broader. You turn your eyes away from […]
- In my body, depression feigns piety as a muse And drags my fingers through the lines of manuscripts Every breath is an incision on my corpse With a six-inch skewer. I do not fear death, but each time night crawls towards me I begin to wonder how many times I […]
Tales from the Moonlit Path
- There is a version of Purgatory where the only music you will ever hear is that of scrape and pluck. Groaning woodgrain; the stuff of sinking ships and drowning sailors. Strings manipulated beyond a heart’s connection; stressed just up to the point of failure. There are bones that pack PurgatoryRead […]
- Memory Formed The sun shines bright and blue, stretching beyond. She stands before you, her hair diffusing the light,an aura of gold formed of magic,mists and whispered incantations. Like a mirage, her features waver in the shadowsand you lose all sense of who she was. This memory. Carrie was bornRead […]
- Phantompains by Therese EstacionPoetryBook*hug Press, 2021 For my feet, for my fingers, for my UterusAll I can offer is a memorythey were fullthey were ecstatic& in flux(“Eunuched Female V”) So ends Phantompains, the debut poetry collection by Therese Estacion. There is a sense of finality to these lines, an actRead […]
- Demands & Beauty Mourning Bounty / spread & the corruption of the data of my myth. Only / breakfast. A point of view. You are the window. // I stare out of the window at the meaning / of words. A flicker of possession. That shadow of the blinds. ARead […]
- Is full of ghosts and 3 headed dogs, who germinate aconite bites blooming from barren anthracite, casting bones of ammonite in a fusion of green, the underworld queen traces you & I in our queerness, growing asymmetrical like moss, in imperfect profusions. She laughs, and spits seeds into the pittedRead […]
- The keepers of the written words sat in the brisk spring air, the fire crackling in the center of their circle, sending sparks up high into the navy night. “This one is for the gods of grief,” the newest one said. She tossed her packet on the flames. “Grief isRead […]
- Marie Vibbert’s poetry has appeared in Asimov’s, Analog, F&SF, and in places where you’d never expect to find poetry, like street corners in Pittsburgh. By day she is a computer programmer in Cleveland, Ohio. Her debut novel, Galactic Hellcats, came out this year and is about a female biker gang inRead […]
- 👋 We’re back. If you have any reviews of the way the sky looks at 2am, interviews with previous mental health states, poems about organizing the bugs under your basement foundation, or essays about the politics of teeth–send them our way, friends. We’ve began accepting only 7 pieces per month.Read […]
- [On Crafting A] Throne World “Opinor ergo sum” — — my pen singing in the same key as a birthday candle’s dulcet surrender a wailing mother, a cooling Glock, an emergency call to prayer, a kiss hello, a welcome home. Of all the realms hidden between your synapses,Read […]
- The trees, shedding, drop an accumulation of colored leaves across the forest floor. The animals, passing, observe their falling and interpret them like tarot cards. Those leaves make the shape of a Pegasus about to take flight. The birds take solace in the image, knowing their journey will beRead […]
Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy
Feed displays only poetry.
- all they’ve said about the painting is a lie‚ except my being a sphinx of beauty. to think they’d ever call me a vampire feels unbelievable‚ until you remember that I’ve been dead more times than I’ve been alive. the truth remains, my eyelashes had been plucked and fed to […]
- The day I collected my soul, the cranberries lost their innocence, twining on my doorknob in a search for something sweet. It was nearly sunset, and the mole people scuttled underground with badges and tales of espionage, the orchards dripping with caterpillars. Dark clouds almost sang my feet to sleep […]
- Musigisg ewniaq, the sky is turning blue: aurorae humming electric dreaming among the clouds. Milamu’gl jugo’tui: Bring me the different colors of a murmuration of strange birds taking to air when dawn arrives. Paqtasultieg, We are shining bright in the three suns of a new stratosphere, watching limb […]
- Galatians 6:11 see what inkjet I make of my deft paws, concealing a switchblade—cupid hung, to serve as restraint when I word overboard with love. my long breath, drawing the heat for print. the jammed teeth of wastepaper. I fill the cartridge that is my guts, sum […]
- But who would pray to you, supply your canonization? First, all is muted, a green, speckled wash, and a balding man has just heard the worst news of his life, and your name comes to him as gently as a silver blanket placed on the face of a planetless […]
- I spent years pulling my heart out from behind my ribs, certain that I didn’t need it, that barking mess, making all that noise— I threw it to the wolves, took their offering of teeth, thinking I could rid myself of the whole aching creature— but it kept coming back, […]
- there’s only so much metal on earth—another way to phrase this: how often will I be expected to wake up with plundered copper coils on my tongue? a decommissioned satellite in my chest? there are humane methods of extraction: ex. putting me back to sleep & forbidding my aimless […]
- you open the papers, wipe the headline-stains on the back of your knee, grumble that the world has changed since you were young. elder, all it did was become high definition. it turned your window into a pathway, and you don’t like standing in its light. there are […]
- In my dream all the women were there because it was a women’s college some of them had attended and we were seated around a wooden table. I was brought a fish, silverscaled: a salmon, I believe. I fed it a goldfish. —Now your fish is pregnant, they told me […]
- It was a knife, that first time we noticed, the old one that fitted so well to my hand. These things happen, you said, thinking it merely lost. I worried the landlord’s kid broke in, took it for kicks. My glasses, two weeks later, the only thing they gave […]