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๐—ข๐—ฝ๐˜‚๐˜€ ๐—ฆ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜€

๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜‘๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ ๐˜ˆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ๐˜ฏ ๐˜‘๐˜ฐ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ

I yearn to write a science fiction masterpiece

an interstellar poem

wrapped up in a sonnet

bulging in density with vapor-locks

& anti-gravity matter

a speculative primer seething in Dragon Speak

a Gorgon-slayer for the 33rd century

a vast wasteland of dystopic sensibilities

a kaleidoscope of Kraken hip-hop with a cosmic flare.

Iโ€™ve been craving Cream of Wheat

but all they sell here on Mars

is Space Grits and Malt-o-Meal.

An extra dollop or two of cardamom

topped off with brown-sugar space dust

and this bowl of lumpy grains

might yet turn palatable.

Iโ€™m told Dr. Spock and Dr. Who,

with their shared extrasensory medical

practice on Neptune

a thriving Edwardian enterprise,

greet each Willing Participant

with a playful earnest glee.

Doctors Strangelove & Kildare

need not apply.

But I donโ€™t know anything about that.

The Space Caravan whoops it up

steady as she goes as I zoom off

to Pluto for a quick mid-elliptic bite.

Iโ€™ve been writing nine days a week now

& a spark of something is sure to catch fire soon.

Lyricisms kindling on my solar screen,

glued to the backside

of both weary eyelids

as I lay me down to sleep,

yellow splotches on wormhole-black

hot-planet-pink on green

mystic mauve bleeding into Andromeda white.


Julie Allyn Johnson is a sawyer's daughter from the American Midwest. She prefers black licorice over red, loves Tootsie Rolls, and digs Hot Tamalesโ€”practically the perfect candy. Her current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Julieโ€™s poetry can be found in various journals including Star*Line, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Granfalloon, Moss Piglet, Penumbric Speculative Fiction, Coffin Bell, Anti-Heroin Chic and Chestnut Review.

Speculative fiction & POETRY ZINE
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