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: Timothy Goss He was sitting in a wet towel when the phone bleeped. It was late, too late for good news. Poullis’ voice cracked as she spoke, “They’re asking for you.” she said and fell silent. His calender was cleared. His diary emptied. A damp towel lay on the […]
- Author: Uchechukwu Nwaka “What makes you think they’ll take my case here, Mama?” Aki’s fingers are clutched tightly over the blanket that wraps his shriveled legs. I take his hands in mine and squeeze. The air-conditioning is a few degrees too warm and I don’t want Aki to interpret my […]
- Author: Andrew Schoen I careen through empty space—somersaulting past the stars. The background of darkness, luminously pinpricked by distant suns, suddenly becomes still. A white flash of light fills my field of vision, jolting me out of this existence. I wake up to the sound of glass shattering on the […]
- Author: Jae Miles, Staff Writer “Here goes nothing.” I always thought being stuck in a time loop would be fun. It’s what started me on the scientific path that led to my current state: Professor Emeritus Epa Shadel, prodigy and teen superstar turned hardworking genius in the field of time […]
- Author: Mary-Wren Ritchie My gut alerts me with a plague of insects in my head and a whirlpool cascading waves through my phalanges. But I’m already on the spacepod and I feel the shape of Gemini projected onto my scales. I meet the constellation arrangement of the fligo’s seven assorted […]
- Author: Ruby Zehnder “So, Irvin says to me, Martha, you know there’s still a few bites of chocolate cake with the cool whip frosting you love in the fridge.” “Are you sure it was Irvin speaking to you?” the doc asked. “Of course it was. Who else would be speaking […]
- Author: Riley Meachem 1. A bloodstained crib. While ambiguity is one of the strengths of this portrait, the small, doll-like leg with a protrusion of bone removes all chance of a misunderstanding, or some sizable coincidence. The child is dead. Vaguely humanoid shadows play across a beam of light which […]
- Author: Alzo David-West The Polygonz, a mineral-based sentience out around Rigel, were conducting an observation. Their deep probes had detected a planet, distant and liquid, with a peculiar life form composed of electricity and plasma, though the Polygonz could not discern if the creatures were intelligent. While the Polygonz considered […]
- Author: Emma Edling Müller We are a few lightyears beyond Mars when I first hear the rumble. It’s a subtle thing, the faintest of thunders, more an absence of silence than any particular sound. The kind of noise that’s hardly there, but once you notice it, it’s all you can […]
- Author: John Chadwick Jeisen rolled out of his bunk and stumbled to the viewscreen where the rest of his crew was gathered. From orbit, it looked like a white marble with some blue swirled in it. They tracked the fabled energy source to its origin on a small city-planet, almost […]
Abyss & Apex
- “To Catch a Unicorn” A guest editorial by W.B.J. Williams Do you know all the stories told of the unicorn? I thought I did. I knew well the legend that the horn can cure poison, and that the unicorn will … Continue reading → The post To Catch a Unicorn […]
- Pevanese Mosaic (Hadley Rille Books) by Mark Nelson Heads up! Mark Nelson is one of the most lyrical writers I know, especially when he’s describing the creative process. In this, his fourth novel in his Pevana fantasy series, he only … Continue reading → The post A&A reviews: Penavese Mosaic […]
- Tattoo by Michelle Rene (Annorlunda Books) American Gods meets Stranger in a Strange Land in this novella of post-Judgement Day dystopia, where the details of everyone’s life are tattooed upon the skin by the Maker. In such a world, a … Continue reading → The post A&A Reviews: Tattoo first […]
- Russell Nichols man made machine god and in the beginning man made machine in his own image. man made machine a carbon copy made of chrome and circuitry and sensors. man made machine learn how to learn on its … Continue reading → The post man made machine god […]
- Brian Hugenbruch Simulation says… The simulation tells me that the last of the humans passed some fifty years ago: that those who choked to death on stagnant air were lucky, for others tore themselves apart for scraps of sustenance. … Continue reading → The post Simulation says… first appeared […]
- Warren Brown What Now Mombasa? She wrote a poem on the Star Bar That legend which sits in Kenya like a fat rich brawler who made his bucks in shady deals And she put Joachim in it black as time’s … Continue reading → The post What Now Mombasa? first […]
- Jennifer Silvey Worlds Colliding Atmosphere folds into atmosphere: the graveyard free falls into the castle. Tombstones rain down from the sky and pound the roof. Coffins tumble down marble stairs; skeletons spill out and pile together. Angelic statues fall … Continue reading → The post Worlds Colliding first appeared […]
- Jennifer L. Collins Tell Me Yesterday I expected the moon (to have fur, gray and luminous to be walked on and tripped upon like a carpet drowned and then surfaced into something more real than an ocean in this … Continue reading → The post Tell Me Yesterday first […]
- Toti O’Brien Choices You watch memory uncoil and rise like a spire of smoke, camphor-scented a curtain in reverse lifting upwards from the carpet, systematical, quiet then suddenly but not unexpectedly (you have witnessed this before oh so many times) … Continue reading → The post Choices first appeared on […]
- Jack Fobean Electronic Alexandria Honestly, the anthropocene was a mockery. Traded off the forests in a pact with Mephistopheles. Exchanged for paper bands, oxygen’s a lost cause and glacial flows done rocked the oceans. Bro, lock and load. Nobody … Continue reading → The post Electronic Alexandria first appeared […]
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 Kyosuke Higuchi – Translated by Toshiya Kamei When I visited Siberia, some of the locals told me about the Witch of Borshevo. Her story was well known throughout much of Russia. Once there lived a girl whose body was immortal. She was born in Borshevo in 1971. Situated in […]
- By Len Baglow The Prime Minister looked in the mirror. He had grown horns: two little bone horns with sharp ends sprouted from either side of his broad temple. He leaned into the mirror to take a closer look and gingerly touched their hard exterior. “Henrietta!” he called. “I’ve grown […]
- By William Kerr I remember snippets of my trial. Dealing with hundreds of cases during a single sitting, the courts churned through their daily list at a frightening pace. I recall being whisked to the bar at the front of an intimidating room by two black-clad guards. I nodded meekly […]
- By Natalie J E Potts “Good morning, listeners. As part of our series, Behind Every Great Man, I’m here with Mrs Mouse, wife of our own home-grown superhero, The Mouse. Welcome.” “Good morning, Jason.” “It must be quite thrilling, being married to a superhero?”
- By Rick Kennett PART ONE “Spiders? What spiders?” Naomi Napaltjarri, a twenty-something wearing high-viz work clothes, stared wide-eyed at the younger woman in the seat beside her. The truck had growled down the hill from the landing pad and onto a flat, yellow plain, and was now passing in among […]
- By Col Hellmuth “How's about that young-un, Gertrude?” I munched thoughtfully awhile, before answering: “What young-un 's that then, Daisy?” “Young Billy, the Farmer's boy.”
- By Chris Karageorge Let me ask you something, have you ever seen a baby crow? Of course you haven’t, no one has. By no one, I mean no living person, but Satan though…he is not a living person, he is the un-living among us. Crows are born and grown in […]
- By Kim Rose “I have cancer.” “Oh, my God.” “I know.” “Dude, you’re so lucky! What kind is it?”
- By P. V. Andrews The party planner had warned Caroline during the booking process that the ‘Favourite Real Fairy Tale Characters’ was not really a child-friendly package. She suggested one of their other options, a package that used actors rather than the ‘real’ characters created by the recently developed replica […]
- By Kevin J. Phyland “Three wishes?” The ifrit tilted his head at me and nodded. His eyes held a mischievous sparkle however, that gave me at least momentary pause. The Erlenmeyer flask that I had been drying in the school chemical laboratory still sat on the flame-proof bench. There was […]
- by Nick PetrouContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by BD AllenContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Matthew GoldbergContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- 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 […]
- 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
- Omphalophobia “Will you be as gods? Gaze in your omphalos”. – Ulysses, James Joyce I have a deep and mouse-eyed fear of my navel. An eyeless socket, it has something ominous about it. The tangled scar it cradles is a disfigured rosebud that yearns to open into perfection in some […]
- Petaled Geography We grow plants uncommon in Pennsylvania. Like cotton. Cotton bolls, our own bit of Georgia. Did they miss red soil? And plumeria, Hawaii in a container. Salmon-colored blossoms. We’ve never been to Hawaii so we brought it here. Red adeniums, Madagascar beside our shed. Tall Mexican sunflowers call […]
- How does one speak of love amnesia is an attic full of salvation, a tainted spine brewing soft waters into memory. you speak a language recently forgotten, of sentences reeking of mason jars and tombstones; weaving a sister tongue of lost identity I often wonder if you remember how warm […]
- is first of all not a person with any edges. She has a strong middle but her boundaries are mostly fluid. She must accommodate. At first, she is expected only to be pretty. A grandmother-in-law remarks you must rouge your cheeks when the ladies of the neighborhood arrive. Then and […]
- She plucked and weeded me like her private garden. Tending to me like a page from her Koran, or like the kantha my foremothers stitched. Nine minutes of complete attention. Every stem, every root, every bend. She bends on me like a lover, a mother, a devotee. Stretching? she says, […]
- The Pianist Pruning my words as tranquil targets, three girls aged ten trebled my response to our music instructor’s initial inquiry: “the flute felt like floating on a cloud.” Flight dispersed further away with each word uttered so I tucked infatuation to soar safely alongside daymares kept under lock and […]
- 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 […]
Breath & Shadow
Feed displays only poetry.
- tripod anima teetering atop bipedal legs. Beckoned vapor clouds my sight now
- phantom of the operator telephone booth memory
- 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.
- I am the one whose words / grow wings, / butterflies by day, moths at night.
- It all started the day the circulation desk librarian paused as she looked at one of the books I wanted to borrow.
- He did not mean to capture her, but once he had her, it was hard to let her go.
- 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.
Daily Science Fiction
Dreams & Nightmares
- these creatures had only one pair of legs remarkable that they so thoroughly destroyed the ancient world given their limitations
- Is There Life On Mars tire tracks stop at three-toed prints Perseverance cogitates
- creeping across the billion-year-old lake Mars' first bird
- still in the hospital, but the doctors have a new theory. I have discovered that they always have a theory. definitely better than being clueless! anyway, they have wisely decided to let me sit in my chair here for a day and a half or so and see if I […]
- in lightless depths Martian microbes breed in ice iron sulfide
- the first Martians crawl in search of life riverbeds dry as bone
- Update on dreams and nightmares 118. most subscriber copies have been mailed, and the rest will go in the mail this week. contributor copies will go in the mail next week. I am now reading for 120, the January 2022 issue.
- the breath of vine-shrouded cenotes shoggoths glide up from the sunless sea
- www.poetrysuperhighway.com poetry super highway contest sponsored by many publishers including dreams and nightmares, as usual. a good way to check out my magazine. don't want to do that? you can get any issue in PDF form for a dollar via PayPal firstname.lastname@example.org I have published 118 issues and you can […]
- we passed up so many worlds too dry or cold this one stinks and I don't like the natives but they'll share this world called Dirt
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
- When my grandfather came back from the war in Korea as a Jeep driver for the Brass, he got a job as one of the four pumpers on a railroad pump car that made its way around the quarry fixing tracks that needed it and bringing tools and food to […]
- “Our culinary choices often say something about us we cannot articulate.” – Henry Hargreaves I. Iowa State Penitentiary, 1963 Victor Feguer, 28 years old, admires his new suit, brown like his eyes only two shades lighter. The coat cuts at the shoulders. The pants tighten at the waist from eating too many potatoes. […]
- 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 […]
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)
- “If I see one more twig, I might burn this forest down,” Silas growled between clenched teeth. His back and legs ached from bending and gathering. Even his fingers felt sore. Prying his grip open slowly, he let the small bits of wood tumble back to the earth. “Oh, Silas, […]
- It had been three months since someone last licked me. That was a weird experience. The offending party apologized profusely and dropped me like I was a talking cupcake. Which, at the time, I was. Couldn’t really blame them for running away screaming. Now, trying not to be nervous, I […]
- The drop freighter loses its savage grapple with gravity for a moment. Everything inside the vessel rises and falls from the interruption. Like those old music machines with the plastic wheels. Discs. Records. They’d collect dust, and songs would skip. “Ya know…” starts Sergeant Cava, battle rifle resting against his […]
- The house sits in darkness except for the faintest orange glow seeping between the downstairs window blinds. Probably the boys watching TV, bundled in blankets, hoping their dad won’t come home tonight. You have no right to those kids. By human law, they belong to Earth. So says the human […]
- Havok Story Podcast, Episode 35: "Mama Louise’s One-Eyed Gumbo" By A. C. Williams
- Dreaming is one of the few comforts I have left. I dream of the sunset sky glowing in shameless display, of a radiant amber symphony rising from the depths before the sun gives way to the moon. I dream, because the moment the true sun touches my skin, primal instincts […]
- The troops whispered the name amongst themselves: the legend, the lore. The Phoenix. A creature of orange, red, and yellow plumage, the bird on fire, the power that never died. They said that it moved from one world to the next. Once the power enshrouded in its earthly vessel had […]
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
- [cover art by Caitlyn Kurilich] Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #28 – Summer 2021 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Careless Harms, Thoughtless Constructions – Lynne Sargent Young Adult Catalogue – Rasha Abdulhadi The Egypt … Continue reading →
- (“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 →
Little Blue Marble
Feed displays only poetry.
- The indigo amphora of night slowly fills with light. Its sapphire body dawns through cobalt, to lapis, before the sky flattens into an azure plate that the sparrows crawl on … The post A child gambles in petroleum country appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- 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.
- We argue over what to call it, that place where the children die. R. Gatwood is precise. The post 920 first appeared on Nanoism.
- Since you died, two thoughts keep hitting me one after the other: “Wish you were here” and then “You didn’t want to be here.” R. Gatwood is concise. The post 919 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I forgot your birthday this year. Maybe that’s progress. R. Gatwood’s fiction has appeared or is forthcoming, depending on your temporal location, in Apex Magazine. The post 918 first appeared on Nanoism.
- He lived long enough to see his favorite beach vanish and his favorite food go extinct. R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) is the emergent consciousness of a spectacularly inefficient library shelving system. The post 917 first appeared on Nanoism.
- 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.
New American Legends
- She was running, leaping, almost dancing. She was so excited, holdingthe door handle wrapped in her over- skirt. Her house,… Read more THE GINGERBREAD HOUSE CAFÉ By Melissa Miles
- Desire on Sale The mannequin faces a storefront window. Stiff, plastic legs cap off in a miniskirt with enough flair… Read more Two Poems from Jennifer Ruth Jackson
- 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
The Piker Press
- Author: Chaitali SenguptaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13Chaitali is a published writer, translator, language teacher, and volunteer journalist from the Netherlands. Her first prose poem collection "Cross- Stitched words" (Setu publication, Pittsburgh, USA) was published in 2021.
- Author: Rp VerlaineGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…trying to remember her…"
- Author: Paul TannerGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…mouth yapping and his finger wagging…"
- Author: Linnet PhoenixGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…What if we agree to only fall into us…"
- Author: John SweetGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…do you really need reasons for your actions…"
- Author: Dan HoltGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…no time to waste on a dirty glass…
- Author: Michael Lee JohnsonGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…Change is a choice where your energy flows…"
- Author: Frederick FrankenbergGenre: cover story fiction conflictDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13Frederick Frankenberg is a recent graduate with a BA in Creative Writing from SUNY New Paltz and an AS in Engineering. He has been published in Little Old Lady, Purple Wall Stories, and ShortStory.me.
- Author: Pranab GhoshGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…The easy way to get money…
- Author: Pawel MarkiewiczGenre: sonnetDate: 2021-06-28Rated: PG-13"…Springtide be primeval home of Naiads!…"
Feed displays only poetry.
- Gerri Leen The spaceship is cold, even through shoes Not nice ones, but nicer than we're used to Mist drifts down the corridor Adding a damp chill as the aliens Suggest we hurry We're already jogging—their legs are so long They have no weapons They don't need them […]
- 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 […]
Priestess & Hierophant
Feed displays only poetry.
- When I was younger, say twelve or thirteen. I asked my preacher Dad “How does God sound when he speaks to a mortal man like you?” He said “Try to talk with water in your mouth, multiply the rumble you make by infinity. Try to read a […]
- 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 […]
Rune Bear Weekly
- She grinds up hickory catkins, meadow holly, string lily, into the perfect unguent.
- You have to black out your mirrors, rearview and sides, when driving through this part of town
- 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.
Space & Time
SPANK the CARP
Feed displays only poetry.
- 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.
- destruction sought, destruction found / three lovers sadly doomed.
- fresh breaths the crescent grip / of a bow i’ve got both shoulders somehow stuck in.
- Clark, If you’re reading this I am already as a mosaic of bone
- 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.
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
- “Garden Debris” by Paul Klee (1923 – 1924) via The Art Institute of Chicago. Buddy Holly Light in the universe is rare. Light requires the presence of a myriad of atomic explosions within a star or the reflection of those cataclysms on the surface of lightless bodies. InRead […]
- “There is a version of Purgatory where the only music you will ever hear is that of scrapeand pluck. Groaning woodgrain; the stuff of sinking ships and drowning sailors. Stringsmanipulated beyond a heart’s connection; stressed just up to the point of failure.” from Gabe Bogart’s “The Cacophony” Gabe Bogart, whoRead […]
- Who would choose to be Jeanne d’ArcDead at 19DrivenAnxiousNever in loveNo private lifeCaptured by her enemiesBurned at the stake And yet earlyShe knew just who she wasAnd just what to doUsed all her skillsSucceededBeyondAny reasonable expectationChanged the worldFor the betterVoice of reason Last night I dreamedAn intelligenceTo the earthFelt itRead […]
- “I woke up during the dawn. It was raining. The sound and shadow mixed in such an alien way that I wasn’t sure where I was. Then I thought of you. You are always on my mind, even when I am thinking about something else. You are the backdrop ofRead […]
- A Sea-Nymph by Edward Coley Burne Jones (1881) via The Minneapolis Institute of Art Hello sweet specters! We have a bit of an announcement for you. We have welcomed our dear friend Margaryta Golovchenko to the TERSE. team! Margaryta, who has never broken a bone and is therefore indestructible, will beRead […]
- Lost in the unending night of his gaze, I believed him when he whispered in my ear. I let his chaos close around me like a fist. Ensconced in this void, I breathed little—lived on dreams as white flowers bloomed in my belly, thinking of lips, painted by vanilla vodka,Read […]
- 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 […]
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 […]