A pirate queen and buxom buccaneer is Captain Tina Jens She plunders from the privileged and divies up the dividends She keeps a lair on every coast Cicilia to Syria Your maven for a haven far as Lemnos and Illyria She sails on sloops so swift they oft mistake her for a peregrine Her masthead […]
“010000010100100101001100010010010101011001000101” —The Robo Sutra They used to promise me They’d save my head in a jar Or at least my brain, Like Hitler, Which was a bit better Than being stitched together By arrogant barons Back in the days of botch and burke. But don’t think I haven’t noticed, Sliver by sliver, You’ve been slicing […]
only it was really too inconvenient, you see, not least when it shattered on the staircase I was running up to catch the last train in that station without an escalator, salarymen swaying in front of me to a silent tune and nothing else but the surly stare of the konbini shopkeep, craning his head […]
No one ever explains that bones rust, joints locking like a memory gone faulty and off–key. Instead, we thank our limitations, praising their sharp flint, ignoring the burning and the smoke— the alarms unheeded and commonplace. Sometimes, you don’t know the monster until you’ve seen it, and the worst villain is the one who has […]
If I am Hades, my char’iot splintered When I met you; my cold bones ignited With heat, bright, that in my chest had wintered Through storms of cities, my own heart blighted. Your fingers’ warmth, your sighs, I’d sew them here— Imprinting flesh and bone with golden thread, So they might linger beyond half the […]
A hundred maps line the walls, but scale representations of cities, mountains, rivers, roads, castles, museums, dramatic views never show the secret places, the precious depths and heights to which humans fly in dream. Careful pens draw the boundaries of the living, but the dead walk paths unseen, to places our waking hearts forget. If […]
For Miriam Mikiel (Editors’ Note: “Deep Bitch” is read by C.S.E. Cooney in The Uncanny Magazine Podcast, Episode 3A, and is interviewed by Deborah Stanish in this issue.)
for Marcell Géza Takács they called me elder / now that I am [—by ISMMG Corporation. During this mandatory orientation and training, we will supply you with basic mining gear, as well as information about the latest—] useless scrap metal / now folded under shale, trapped in pockets of compressed ground. I exhaled gas, exhaled […]
We don’t talk about the ninth, the quiet one, who followed us down the slick dark steps, who always drank the silver wine. We don’t talk about the men of how they held her in cold cold hands. We don’t talk about the blood that dried in patterns on her skin. We don’t talk about […]
We walk around our house for days with an emptiness that sings in our bones. Otousan gathers the pale feathers she discarded and we weep over them at dinner, rice too wet in our dry mouths. I spread my hands over her silk robe and remember the same strange ache I felt, hefting her naked […]