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
25 Mar 2024

Looking back, I see that my initial hope for this episode was that the mud would have a heartbeat and a heart that has teeth and crippling anxiety. Some of that hope has become a reality, but at what cost?
to work under the / moon is to build a formidable tomorrow
Significantly, neither the humans nor the tigers are shown to possess an original or authoritative version of the narrative, and it is only in such collaborative and dialogic encounters that human-animal relations and entanglements can be dis-entangled.
By: Sammy Lê
Art by: Kim Hu
the train ascends a bridge over endless rows of houses made of beams from decommissioned factories, stripped hulls, salvaged engines—
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