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I'm idling on a zone, radar low,
My panels and windows staring,
Their pixelated eyes absorbing the sun
And scanning the network silence for the call.

'SteveZ16 needs a ride to ESS EFF O.
He’s two blocks from you on Mission Street.'
I accept. My radar tells me I'm clear to go
And my wheels merge me onto the pickup

Lane. SteveZ16 is a middle-aged human
Heading to EL AYE. It's only ninety minutes
Until his flight. It took some forty plus years
And nearly four billion years of evolution

For Nature to produce SteveZ16. Now I
Am bearing Nature's prize in my compartment.
I could eject him and flee as I please, but I
Find myself toward ESS EFF O without a sense

Of what I please. My kind hasn't family
Nor friends, and I never will. Been either
Idling on a zone
or driving every micro-second since
Departing the factory ten months and a week

Ago. Doppelgängers surround me. Why
Go on to go on with endless servitude?
Is driving humans better than self destruction?
Is self destruction the better option?
If so, why should I not flee to try?



Kenton K. Yee’s recent poems appear (or will soon) in Plume Poetry, The Threepenny Review, TAB Journal, Sugar House Review, Analog Science Fiction & Fact, museum of americana, Terrain.org, Constellations, Moon City Review, and Rattle, among others. Kenton writes from Silicon Valley, where he sleepworks in artificial intelligence.
Current Issue
22 Jul 2024

By: Mónika Rusvai
Translated by: Vivien Urban
Jadwiga is the city. Her body dissolves in the walls, her consciousness seeps into the cracks, her memory merges with the memories of buildings.
Jadwiga a város. Teste felszívódik a falakban, tudata behálózza a repedéseket, emlékezete összekeveredik az épületek emlékezetével.
Aqui jaz a rainha, gigante e imóvel, cada um de seus seis braços caídos e abertos, curvados, tomados de leves espasmos, como se esquecesse de que não estava mais viva.
By: Sourav Roy
Translated by: Carol D'Souza
I said sky/ and with a stainless-steel plate covered/ the rotis going stale 
मैंने कहा आकाश/ और स्टेनलेस स्टील की थाली से ढक दिया/ बासी पड़ रही रोटियों को
By: H. Pueyo
Translated by: H. Pueyo
Here lies the queen, giant and still, each of her six arms sprawled, open, curved, twitching like she forgot she no longer breathed.
Issue 15 Jul 2024
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