Enjoy Being Human

Holly Lyn Walrath

Boll Heart

Small and white
tucked into the deep
throat of earth

growth is broken
frayed like mending bone

relies on the rain
and other mysteries

but, nestled in my palm
nothing breeds nothing

cracked
I place you in my mouth

you, devoured
are between me and myself

growing roots and blossoms
deep in the places I despise.

And Farther Death Goes

After Ursula K. Le Guin

Sing now a eulogy for forests
where man once walked like equals
and the ghosts of these tree bodies now
tumble up against us and slide their arms around us
wanting only to feel our seed–like warmth.
You can see them standing on the city
street corners, breathing in the scents
of bodega chicken and patisserie crusty bread
and exhaust–like preachers without a pulpit.
They weep, they sway in this
new forest of dead things.

A Deep Enough Abyss

After Ursula K. Le Guin

From a drone's eye, these hills are like the bodies
of giants, nestled together, hip to hip,
bone to bone.

Sunlight fractures their snowy heads
and we see the work of our foremothers
as they pixelate, glitch, and shutter.
The river at their feet is like glass
unmoving, if you peer too closely.

How deep should the canyon be?
They must have asked each other
bent over blueprints and machines
the river is only as deep as the mountain
is high.

You can climb these artificial wonders
although it's far more dangerous than the real thing
yet as long as there have been mountains
to climb and rivers to swim
you know how it goes.

The slightest change in programming–
an adjustment for the weather or a movement
in satellites
and you might end up part of the scenery
spliced between rock and rock
pushed under water.

We can hear it sometimes, the framework,
from our village, creaking and moaning–
like a beautiful old woman.

When people come to our doors
and demand guides
we go with them and sometimes
we never return.

The foremothers banned all human creation
cloning, stem cells, any technology that might
create life if not safe.

There are enough people on this earth.


About Holly Lyn Walrath

Contributor headshot, Holly Lyn Walrath

Holly Lyn Walrath's poetry and short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Fireside Fiction, Luna Station Quarterly, Liminality, and elsewhere. Her chapbook of words and images, Glimmerglass Girl, will be published by Finishing Line Press in 2018. She holds a B.A. in English from The University of Texas and a Master's in Creative Writing from the University of Denver. She is a freelance editor and host of The Weird Circular, an e-newsletter for writers containing submission calls and writing prompts. You can find her canoeing the bayou in Seabrook, Texas, on Twitter @HollyLynWalrath, Instagram, Goodreads, or at www.hlwalrath.com.

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