Size / / /

thunder on the red Martian plain:

a low-grav behemoth grazing

Cat ExoP-3 gouges regolith

its onboard lab working 24:39/7

to analyse microbes

drawn from the blackwater ice

those vibrations dredging a giant

from his chamber beneath the crust

and up he comes, trawling for life

in the terraforming pool

telltale ripples captured in a vid

by 3rd shift lamplighters Carl and Esther

hazy at Phobos station

before the beast exploded from what was

a dry ocean bed for a billion years

to eviscerate the Cat

tendrils of fiber optics from torn sheet metal

dripping visions of worlds to come

a phalanx bristling with cast-off sheaves

of Rice Burroughsian ingenuity

WC Roberts lives in a mobile home up on Bixby Hill, on land that was once the county dump. The only window looks out on a ragged scarecrow standing in a field of straw and dressed in WC's own discarded clothes. WC dreams of the desert, of finally getting his first television set, and of ravens. Above all, he writes.
Current Issue
5 Jun 2023

Jackson sat at Kay’s bedside, one of her hands laid atop his, palm to palm, fingertips against the soft inside of her wrist. His fingers measured her temperature and pulse, her blood pressure, and her blood oxygen levels. She was no weaker or stronger today than yesterday. He was unsurprised and uneasy. Her vitals were regular with sleep. She had been resting when he returned from the shore.
You do not mean this as slang.
certain people of the town go outside, kick off their shoes
Friday: The Half-Drowned by Trynne Delaney 
Issue 29 May 2023
By: L Chan
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