Size / / /

I have to admit,

this poem is not about swans

or visiting the plot

where my father is buried.

In fact, he's still alive.

I said that so you

would read this:

there are no

such things as swans

or graves or fathers.

Only flight. Put down this poem,

see it now: the black hole

stretching like a mouth,

taking in houses, oceans,

planets. Open your eyes,

quicken past moons,

novas, nebulae, dying

suns. Let the vacuum

swallow you until

the surrounding light curves

so far into itself you see

the back of your body.




Scott Hughes received an MFA from Georgia College & State University in 2004. He is currently seeking an agent for the first book in his young adult fantasy series. His work has appeared in Crazyhorse and Redivider and is forthcoming in Crab Creek Review and Seasons in the Night. You can send Scott mail at richardscotthughes@hotmail.com.
Current Issue
18 Nov 2024

Your distress signals are understood
Somehow we’re now Harold Lloyd/Jackie Chan, letting go of the minute hand
It was always a beautiful day on April 22, 1952.
By: Susannah Rand
Podcast read by: Claire McNerney
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Little Lila by Susannah Rand, read by Claire McNerney. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
Friday: The 23rd Hero by Rebecca Anne Nguyen 
Issue 11 Nov 2024
Issue 4 Nov 2024
Issue 28 Oct 2024
Issue 21 Oct 2024
By: KT Bryski
Podcast read by: Devin Martin
Issue 14 Oct 2024
Issue 7 Oct 2024
By: Christopher Blake
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 30 Sep 2024
Issue 23 Sep 2024
By: LeeAnn Perry
Art by: nino
Issue 16 Sep 2024
Issue 9 Sep 2024
Load More