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Seven years I beg men in white
to make a clock of my insides,
to build for me a patient body,
a human one
with moonflowers for eyes.
The doctors say
rage is not a flower.
They tell me to eat
soft and bland for healing.

So I suckle honeysuckle sap
for pleasure and steam sunset
marigolds for distraction
as the sleepless itch for power
swells beyond my belly button.

I sob when my skin first begins
to sting and brittle. My fine baby hairs
sharpen to needle horns while I call
sing and plead, staring
through dull hospital glass
at the bloody hyacinths
bursting across the street. Please,
I would rather bear fruit
than fire.
But my salt calls no army.
I am an echo in a cave.

Flaming intestine sprouts
from my belly, flares to fierce wing.
My screams carry organ pipes
to the desert and birth fields of wild red
milkweed in the open mouths of dunes.
Rage leathers my guts to mottled scale.
I burn everything I touch
and myself, to shriveling pitless cherry.
Reborn in brimstone, my golden
glinting lizard hide straddles the canal
and I hunger for bloom. Cloaked
in silken gowns, heavy beneath
heady magics, the men chant
as a chorus back to me:
no, no, no.



Liz is a gutless wonder—a poet without a large intestine, trying to write gut-punching poems. She received her B.A. in English from the University of Alabama in 2016. Currently, she serves as the Managing Editor of The McNeese Review, and organizes MSU’s graduate reading series. She is the first place recipient of the 2019 Joy Scantlebury Poetry Prize, and her poems have been selected as finalists for Jabberwock Review’s 2019 Nancy D. Hargrove Editors’ Prize in Poetry and F(r)iction’s Winter 2018 Poetry Contest, judged by Kwame Dawes. She lives in Lake Charles, Louisiana, with her (very cute) dog, Rocky.
Current Issue
19 Oct 2020

We wear the masks long after penguins have been extinguished. By now we are hauntresses, hordes of extinction shuffling along the city streets under the excruciating weathers of this brutal world we’ve inherited. Individually, we are called pinguinos. It’s something to do; the world is depressed and none of us have jobs.
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Noah Bogdonoff's “Ask Not What the Penguin Horde Can Do For You.”
I may be eyeless but I can see through the eyes of everyone and everything. My parents put cameras all over the house
By: Aber O. Grand
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Ciro Faienza presents Aber O. Grand's “Marbles.”
Fiction submissions will close for November-December 2020. This means that the last window for general fiction submissions in 2020 will be October 26-27. Get your stories ready or hold them until January 2021. Fiction submissions for the Palestinian Special issue will open in November 2020!
Friday: A Tale of Truths by Berit Ellingsen 
Issue 12 Oct 2020
By: Elisabeth R. Moore
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Stephanie Jean
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 5 Oct 2020
By: J.L. Akagi
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Lesley Wheeler
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Lesley Wheeler
Issue 28 Sep 2020
By: Maggie Damken
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 21 Sep 2020
By: Aqdas Aftab
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: David Clink
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 14 Sep 2020
By: Fargo Tbakhi
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Jenny Blackford
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 7 Sep 2020
By: Catherynne M. Valente
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Bethany Powell
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Bethany Powell
Issue 31 Aug 2020
By: R.B. Lemberg
By: Julia Rios
By: Sonya Taaffe
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: R.B. Lemberg
Podcast read by: Julia Rios
Podcast read by: Sonya Taaffe
Issue 24 Aug 2020
By: Leslie J. Anderson
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Leslie J. Anderson
Issue 17 Aug 2020
By: Emma Törzs
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Liz Adair
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 10 Aug 2020
By: Anya Johanna DeNiro
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Laura Cranehill
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
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