Size / / /

After you die, you

put on a pair of shades and

go driving at night.

You crash again and

again, again and again,

and with each new crash

you're ejected and

fly into a bigger car,

wearing darker shades.

Eventually,

the car's as vast as God, the

shades as dark as Death.

You grin as you crash

into worlds, stars, galaxies,

into endless dark.




David Bain's poems have appeared in Bare Bone, Mythic Delerium, Rogue Worlds, Weird Tales, Decompositions, and several anthologies. Bain edited Whispering Worlds, a large poetry e-book available free via his website, named the best online speculative collection by Black Gate and an "Internet Hotspot" by Ellen Datlow.
Current Issue
31 Aug 2026

We’ll furnish some drugs to max-out your REM cycle: our bestsellers dream twenty hours a day
A prompt, pressing deeper, touches another creature’s skin.
In the screen glow of the witching hours you see a silhouette flit in and out of the doorway. Your first meme and your first violation.
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