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You know this world well: green rows heavy
with August heat and humidity, ears bent,

silk brushing the ground, or shredded brown stalks
dry with shrunken kernels scavenged in late fall

by wild turkey or herds of white-tailed deer.
You never shy away from the sudden shapes that appear

shorn in the fields, waves of stalks woven into circles
and split spheres. Even now, when farmers frown,

as a V of geese veers away, you listen to the humming,
a low drone that buzzes like insects that cling to the light.

Your fingers tingle, your shoulders ache, you feel
a strange pulse in the veins behind your ears. You toss

your shoes to the wind, throw yourself into cartwheels,
one turn after another and another and another.

Hard ground tears at the palms of your hands,
bites the bottom of your feet every time you land.

Above you, a single crow caws a shrill warning,
a hunting beagle suddenly bays a half a mile away.

But you keep turning. You know the twisted stalks
will teach you how to bend without breaking.




Karen J. Weyant's speculative poetry has been published in Arsenic Lobster, Caesura, Cold Mountain Review, The Devilfish Review, Strange Horizons, and Whiskey Island. When she is not writing, she enjoys exploring the speculative regions of the Rust Belt.
Current Issue
16 May 2022

we are whispered into this new land, this old land, whispered anew
i tuck myselves under coffin nails. and then i am the sun like a nairobi fly, burning spine and skin.
The last deer in heaven flees, and Sestu pursues.
Issue 9 May 2022
Podcast: 9 May Poetry 
Issue 2 May 2022
By: Eric Wang
By: Sara S. Messenger
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Sara S. Messenger
Issue 18 Apr 2022
By: Blaize Kelly Strothers
By: Ken Haponek
Podcast read by: Blaize Kelly Strothers
Podcast read by: Ken Haponek
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 11 Apr 2022
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Issue 28 Mar 2022
Issue 21 Mar 2022
By: Devin Miller
Art by: Alex Pernau
Podcast read by: Courtney Floyd
Issue 14 Mar 2022
Strange Horizons
Issue 7 Mar 2022
Strange Horizons
28 Feb 2022
We would like stories that are joyous, horrific, hopeful, despondent, powerful and subtle. Write something that will take our breath away, make us yell and cry. Write unapologetically in your local patois and basilects in space; make references to local events and memes to your heart’s content. Write something that makes you laugh and cry. Indulge in all the hallmarks of your heritage that you find yourself yearning for in speculative literature, but know that we will not judge you based on your authenticity as a Southeast Asian. 
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