Pop them tabs (or bust out them bottle-opener keyrings, if you only drink craft brews named after local landscape features), throw something on the grill, and kick back with our ninety-first issue. It’s got tricksy wordplay and trusty appliances. It has short-form sci-fi poetry. It also has a tentacular Christmas story, because we don’t adhere to society’s rigid and confining seasonal norms. And remember: in space, no one can hear you float.
Slap it online or tickle the .pdf.
P. S. You’ve got until Friday’s end to send us your Victorian mash-ups in prose or verse!
Julie Bloss Kelsey
late to work
I lose my head
learning to walk
among the natives
. . . my prosthetic tail
JULIE BLOSS KELSEY loves short-form poetry, iced decaf lattes, and the Oxford comma. Her poetry has appeared in Scifaikuest, Frogpond, Eye to the Telescope, Seven by Twenty, and The Heron’s Nest, among others. One of her scifaiku poems won the 2011 Dwarf Stars Award given by the Science Fiction Poetry Association. Julie lives in suburban Maryland with her husband, three kids, one dog, and three fish. Find her on Twitter (@MamaJoules).
It’s June, and we’re sweating right through the striped knees of our old-timey bathing suit. Join us as we scuttle into the shade of a giant umbrella and let these beach reads tickle the sand off our toes.
Our ninetieth issue has art crimes of the future, poems that do yet don’t add up, an aspiring Western hero, and a flaming car in reverse. Also a great cover photograph–with body paint, which is a first for us.
Rock it online or roll the .pdf.
Quick remind-plea: We need YOU to crank up your steam-powered typing machine and create a beautiful monster for our Victorian Mash-Up Issue!