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Twist and love and love and twist
I am the mother of monsters
I am a monster of mothers
Laundry and necks and necks and laundry
Step and monster and mother and step

A story can be grim but it can’t mother
the way bears do. The way they eat
their young if they will starve. I would eat
my young. I would eat my heart. I cannot bear
this dance. Mother of monster. Monster mother.
Mother monster. I will eat your heart.

Better to survive than bear
what will kill you. Bears have learned
wombs are not worth more than a bear. Mama
Bear is an animal fertile and wild and wild and fertile
this is what makes us mothers. But this cannot be
born. They do not like reminders that mothers are
monstrous. We bear life and bare life
strips us of that which makes

mother only only mother

(human is not used here not even once)

Hands rung and wrung hands
(Scarlet ringing necks and wringing necks)
(This is reserved for the stories in which I am)

Womb born out, I am erased
Stepping into my own story I
embrace my

mother of monsters monster of mothers
monster of mothers mother of monsters
Twist and love and love and twist

Dyani Sabin is an author of speculative fiction, poetry, and science journalism. Her work has been published in National Geographic, The Washington Post, Popular Science, and Scientific American, among others. You can find her haunting a cornfield, chasing ghosts on the endangered species list, or on Twitter @DyaniSabin.
Current Issue
29 May 2023

We are touched and encouraged to see an overwhelming response from writers from the Sino diaspora as well as BIPOC creators in various parts of the world. And such diverse and daring takes of wuxia and xianxia, from contemporary to the far reaches of space!
By: L Chan
The air was redolent with machine oil; rich and unctuous, and synthesised alcohol, sharper than a knife on the tongue.
“Leaping Crane don’t want me to tell you this,” Poppy continued, “but I’m the most dangerous thing in the West. We’ll get you to your brother safe before you know it.”
Many eons ago, when the first dawn broke over the newborn mortal world, the children of the Heavenly Realm assembled at the Golden Sky Palace.
Winter storm: lightning flashes old ghosts on my blade.
transplanted from your temple and missing the persimmons in bloom
immigrant daughters dodge sharp barbs thrown in ambush 十面埋伏 from all directions
Many trans and marginalised people in our world can do the exact same things that everyone else has done to overcome challenges and find happiness, only for others to come in and do what they want as Ren Woxing did, and probably, when asked why, they would simply say Xiang Wentian: to ask the heavens. And perhaps we the readers, who are told this story from Linghu Chong’s point of view, should do more to question the actions of people before blindly following along to cause harm.
Before the Occupation, righteousness might have meant taking overt stands against the distant invaders of their ancestral homelands through donating money, labour, or expertise to Chinese wartime efforts. Yet during the Occupation, such behaviour would get one killed or suspected of treason; one might find it better to remain discreet and fade into the background, or leave for safer shores. Could one uphold justice and righteousness quietly, subtly, and effectively within such a world of harshness and deprivation?
Issue 22 May 2023
Issue 15 May 2023
Issue 8 May 2023
Issue 1 May 2023
Issue 24 Apr 2023
Issue 17 Apr 2023
Issue 10 Apr 2023
Issue 3 Apr 2023
Issue 27 Mar 2023
Issue 20 Mar 2023
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