Size / / /

all those bleached bones
beside a road carved out of desert night

curled back in waves
propulsion


having flung d'artagnan clear
to luna's tepid stone

all earthly aspirations
our astronaut ignites


discarding only those most hollow shells
in his affective wake.

 

Copyright © 2002 Andy Miller

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Andy Miller is currently working out in the mountains of central Virginia. He's a writer, artist, and composer.



Andy Miller lives, works, and plays with his cat in central Virginia. You can contact him by email at kidscroll@hotmail.com.
Current Issue
15 Dec 2025

Strange Horizons
Strange Horizons will open to general fiction submissions on January 19th, 2026, at 3 p.m. UTC! This window will remain open for 48 hours, closing at 3 p.m. UTC on January 21st 2026.
My obsidian shadows knifed the moon, drank moonblood until my wandering mouth filled to bursting
In this endless dark winter / he comes as furious as / a lion’s claw
Now that I am back in our homelands, I am haunted. I dream of faces hovering over me, taking my blood. They suck at my veins like infants at a bottle.
Wednesday: The Deep Forest by Sofía Rhei, translated by Kendal Simmons 
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By: B. Pladek
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Strange Horizons
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