Size / / /

They dive to the drowned city
Dive at Lauds and Vespers
Down to the lost cathedral
St. Florian of Inundations
St. Michael of the Depths
They come for the glossolalia
Of the tongueless bells

The peal divers trap
That mute polyphony
In the cage of their ribs
In the nacre of their hearts
And then ascend
To shouts and acclamations
And kneel, to let the golden ax
Split wide their chests
That the silent, holy song
May flood the land.




Francesca Forrest has lived near the coast of Dorset, England, and by a bamboo grove in Japan, but has spent the last ten years within walking distance of the Quabbin Reservoir, in Massachusetts. Her short stories and poems hide out in various corners of the Internet. For more about her and her work, see her LiveJournal.
Current Issue
8 Jun 2026

Throne of Men, Wilds of Sky 
But I am no king, no man. It is a role I assumed in serving, with perfect order, those who scarcely saw fit to name me. Wild and shimmering, I hide from myself no longer. I was born twice from death. It is time to mend what was broken, even if they will not.
The Sound of Trying to Remember 
They took the verse... and translated its grief into a new alphabet.
look 
i am learning my new friend’s language / she said do you want to look for frogs sometime
Monday: The Climate Fiction Prize Shortlist 2026 
Friday: Hermits Die on Thursday: Stories of Appalachia and the Dark Ages by Gregory Ariail 
Issue 1 Jun 2026
Issue 25 May 2026
By: Louis Inglis Hall
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 18 May 2026
Issue 11 May 2026
Issue 4 May 2026
Issue 20 Apr 2026
By: Athar Fikry
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 13 Apr 2026
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Issue 30 Mar 2026
Issue 23 Mar 2026
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