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got a riddle 4 u mate.
yeah, I’m filling in:
sphinx’s on sick leave.
got her riddles rattled.
What goes in the morning.
Who gets up. Who does
anything. Who’s coping?

anyway. I got one about
the Apocalypse:
what does the end
of it all look like?
it looks like tomorrow
happening over again.
aren’t you sick?

taking a shift in Delphi
next. Apollo speaks thru
the bunny now. a bunny
feathered and duck-footed
& as daft as this is. my
presence is a sonnet. I
keep my dreams close:
I wanna put my landlord
in a jar. give me a flat
to keep my thoughts in.
pls. anything. my sphinx
is so tired. I love her.
let us have this. let me
keep her safe.



[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Katherine Prevost during our annual Kickstarter.]

Kym Deyn is a writer and fortune teller. They were selected for Nine Arches’ Primers Vol. 6 and their pamphlet Dionysia is forthcoming with Verve Poetry Press. They are widely published in anthologies and journals and are a winner of the Outspoken Prize. Their website is
Current Issue
18 Sep 2023

Ama’s arm rested protectively around the girl’s shoulder as the giant bird glided above, its head angling right to left. Violet-black wings soared across a cloudless sky, blocking the sun’s midday rays and swathing sections of the village in deep shadow. Given its size, this argentavis was one of her first, but too far above for her to differentiate by name. Even across the distance, Ama could feel its heartbeat synced to hers, their lives intertwined until death.
She is leaving the world that is pink with desire, on her gray cardboard rocket ship.
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