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The cold hard hearts of gods

despise

the lickspittle loyalty of dogs

Incense and candles

infuriate

appetites weaned on burning bones

Libations and tithes

purchase

only a smirk at the stingy waste

The gods lean down, though,

whispering

in our ears

feeding

on our devotion

We were divine, once,

giving

them names

stirring

them into life




K. J. Kirby came from the historic Hudson Valley and will not say how old she was before she learned that Ichabod Crane and Rip van Winkle were not actual personages. She recently emerged from the surreal fantasy world of tax preparation, and has a forthcoming poem in Abyss & Apex. You can contact her at kkkidder@commkey.net.
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
Lunar enby folks across here
Wednesday: The 2024 Ignyte Award for Best Novel Shortlist, Part Two 
Friday: A Place Between Waking and Forgetting by Eugen Bacon 
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
Issue 2 Sep 2024
Issue 26 Aug 2024
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