Size / / /

I filed suit for your soul today.

You felt the service in your bones.

If by tonight you don't respond,

Your spirit will become my own.

Who will stop the judgment nigh

And represent you in your plight?

The counsel who will face this court

Cannot be hired in noonday light;

So summoned, come, quaking pro se

And foolishly fight this complaint.

The jury picked to hear your plea

Will not be stricken of my taint.

No verdict cap or tort reform

Will curb the cost this judge demands

Once you've demurred and left your fate

Unbalanced in his scaly hands.

I sued you for your soul this eve

And placed a lien upon your bones;

No matter how just your appeal,

Your spirit will become my own.


Mike Allen's most recent project is the offbeat fiction and poetry anthology MYTHIC. He's also the longtime editor of the speculative poetry journal Mythic Delirium. A new short story, "The Music of Bremen Farm," just appeared in the first issue of Cabinet des Fées, and his newest poetry collections, Disturbing Muses and Strange Wisdoms of the Dead, are both available from Wildside Press. More of Mike's poems can be found in the Strange Horizons archives.



Mike Allen is president of the Science Fiction Poetry Association and editor of the speculative poetry journal Mythic Delirium. With Roger Dutcher, Mike is also editor of The Alchemy of Stars: Rhysling Award Winners Showcase, which for the first time collects the Rhysling Award-winning poems from 1978 to 2004 in one volume. His newest poetry collection, Disturbing Muses, is out from Prime Books, with a second collection, Strange Wisdoms of the Dead, soon to follow. Mike's poems can also be found in Nebula Awards Showcase 2005, both editions of The 2005 Rhysling Anthology, and the Strange Horizons archives.
Current Issue
28 Apr 2025

By: Sofia Rhei
Translated by: Marian Womack
When the flint salamander stopped talking, its lava eyes dimmed and it sank back into the sand. Some of the scales on its upper body still poked out, here and there, as though they were part of no living creature, but simply stones scattered across the surface. 
Cuando la salamandra de sílex terminó de hablar, sus ojos de lava se apagaron y volvió a hundirse en la arena. Algunas de las escamas de su parte superior asomaban aún, aquí y allá, como si no formaran parte de un mismo cuerpo vivo, como si no fueran más que unas cuantas piedras dispuestas al azar.
By: Bella Han
Translated by: Bella Han
I am waiting for Helen on her fiftieth birthday. On the table, there’s a crystal drinking glass and a vase with rare orchids; I can’t tell if the flowers are genuine or not. Faint piano notes and a cold scent drift in the air.
我在等待海伦,为她庆祝五十岁生日。面前是一杯水,一瓶花。杯子是水晶杯,花是垂着头的兰花,不知道是真是假。
When the branches veer towards the ground you can/ climb the trees—up and up, just as you’d ditch/ ladder rungs you’re standing on.
Wenn die Zweige zum Boden geneigt sind kannst du/ auf den Baum klettern immer weiter so wie man/ die Leiter wegwirft auf der man steht
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