Size / / /

I wrought the nets that cage the finflicks of strange attractors,

incite the end of all scattered planets, fireflung into frost:

this rime that rims the outer worlds

owes all care to all my computation; the more bodies I add the better

though always it lacks neatly-nailed resolution.

The bounds to every problem last a star's lifetime.

Once in quickflicker kindness I might be inclined to exchange my eccentricity,

be governed in slow tides:

gravity's rule, stretched branch-wide, encompasses all my arguments—

No. Better, to watch all the worlds burn

sent slow into the sun:

there is such glory in every grain of darkness.




Michele Bannister has an uncommon fondness for distant worlds both small and icy. She lives in Australia, where she is working towards her doctorate in astronomy. Her poetry has appeared in Strange Horizons, Ideomancer, Stone Telling and other venues, in the Here, We Cross anthology (Stone Bird Press, 2012), and is forthcoming in inkscrawl and Goblin Fruit.
Current Issue
20 May 2024

The Lunar Colony AI Begins to Build a Monument to the Programmer’s Father 
You can see him / because you imagine reconciliation.
The Spindle of Necessity 
Andrew was convinced the writer had been trans. By this point his friends were tired of hearing about it, but he had no one else to tell besides the internet, and he was too smart for that. That would be asking for it.
SONNET FOR THE UNBELIEVER 
It’s your turn now. / the bombs have come in the same temper— / you in your granny’s frame
Monday: After World by Debbie Urbanski 
Wednesday: Same Bed Different Dreams by Ed Park 
Friday: The Hard Switch by Owen D. Pomery 
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By: Ana Hurtado
Art by: delila
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By: Sammy Lê
Art by: Kim Hu
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Strange Horizons
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