Online Issue Contents

• Wyrms & Wormholes

• Editor's Choice Poems
  • The E. coli Sudoku Team * Art Holcomb
  • The Present * Ian Willey
  • Our Blessed Technologies, Their Barbarous Technologies * Jenna Le
  • Contravention * F. J. Bergmann
  • Five Ways To Murder Your Mentor * Michael Victor Bowman
  • The World Is Ending, but the Drive Thru Is Still Open on Broadway and Eighth * AJ Wentz

• Full Table of Contents

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Wyrms & Wormholes: Farewell, My Friends. Sort of...

It has been a great honor to be at the helm of Star*Line and to read so much of your wonderful work, even if I had to send out rejections. I am in constant awe of the quality of the poetry from all of you speculative poets from around the world, and I treasure my time becoming so familiar with all of your voices. While I am leaving as editor, I am still going to be an active part of our community and am looking forward to reading your work in various journals, bumping into you at cons, and sharing the stage at readings. Thank you for trusting me with your art, I hope that I have done it justice.

It is also an honor to hand over the helm to our new editor John Reinhart. I’m sure that you are familiar with his poetry and book reviews from past issues of Star*Line, and I know that he will do an excellent job with our journal. Please join me in welcoming him!

If you’d like to stay in touch, I can easily be found online through my bookstore Space Cowboy Books, and I welcome further communication. Your poetry has truly been an inspiration. Thank you!

—Jean-Paul L. Garnier, Star*Line Editor

Editor's Choice Poems

"The E. coli Sudoku Team," by Art Holcomb

Of course, it was only a matter of time—
students at the University of Tokyo
have trained those little stomach bacteria
to graduate from causing food poisoning
to solving Sudoku puzzles.
Bravo, science. Really.

Because what we truly needed
wasn’t a cure for disease,
or a fix for a planet baking like bread in the oven,
but a microorganism
that could nail a 9x9 grid
without breaking a sweat.

Maybe next, they’ll teach fungi to do taxes,
train viruses to calculate the tip—
so perhaps that half-eaten casserole
moldering in the fridge
can finally get my checkbook balanced.

At this point,
even the mold is probably smarter than I am.

And we—
we who invented the wheel,
the lightbulb,
the smartphone so we could argue online
about things we don’t understand—
we who once turned fire into progress
are now left with ever-declining attention spans
and the existential dread
of being outpaced by whatever’s growing
in the bottom of the milk carton.

Perhaps,
by next year,
we’ll have yeast managing our calendars,
a side of E. coli tutoring our kids,
and I’ll sit here, sipping my coffee,
waiting for the day
when the leftovers in the fridge
not only file my taxes,
but, ultimately,
probate my estate.

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"The Present," by Ian Wiley

Since there are no days in space we wear watches that tell us not only the time but how old we are. That’s how we know when to celebrate our birthdays, not that we do, having used up the cake mix centuries ago. But while clearing space slugs from the hull I had an accident, losing one hand and with it the watch. They gave me a new hand and a new watch but checking the age I saw I was ten years younger than I should be. I told the repair-bot but she just smiled and said happy birthday..

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"Our Blessed Technologies, Their Barbarous Technologies," by Jenna Le

There is a planet where the women
prevent unwanted births
by going to consult a wizard

He casts a spell upon their wombs
brandishing an instrument
reforged from melted coins

The spell inflicts a pain
that far exceeds all other pain
they’ve ever known

and sometimes it drags on
for a draconian length of time
as the spell’s tendrils often fail

to penetrate the womb’s full depth
and must be knuckled into place
all while the women hiss and grit

No anesthesia’s given
The wizard tells the women pain is rare
and complications too are rare

although at times
the tendrils of the spell escape the womb
and plant long barbs in nearby organs

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"Contravention," by F.J. Bergmann

Though his contract specifically
forbade drugs and alcohol, most of
the night before was a blur. The band
had been really bad—then nothing.
But if he couldn’t recall using,
he could simply deny it with
a clear conscience. He inserted
the saline drip to detox residuals.
Obviously, he’d had a good time;
he hoped it had been worth it.

The aliens from Gliese 83c loved
the taste of human flesh. They were
too civilized to kill sentient beings,
but alternatives were always possible:
hospitals and outpatient surgeries
did a brisk business in trimmings,
and brokers were able to negotiate
substantial annuities in exchange
for regular harvest of organs
that could regenerate—like livers.

They’d put him to sleep every
three months, and he’d wake up
five pounds lighter, with a newly
sutured incision. Very neat. Just
like a goose, except geese didn’t
survive being made into foie gras.
Hazily, he wondered if Gliesans
had livers, and what they would
taste like. Maybe next time
he’d propose a trade.

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"Five Ways to Murder Your Mentor" by Michael Victor Bowman

I just killed him for the second time, today.
I murdered him tomorrow, then rewrote my poem.
But today he rejected it, again.
’Weak metaphor, end rhyme with no meter. Cliché!’
So now I have to start again.
I scribble angry words and with a fist
of crumpled paper, dial my destination:
yesterday. Evening, perhaps?
He may be more generous after dinner;
less critical, his faculties softened by wine.

Tomorrow I strangled him, screaming ’Cliché?’
into his face as I pushed my thumbs into his throat.
Today, I silently slashed his carotid with a kitchen knife,
showered in his blood, then had to shower
before leaving. Any evidence travels back.
I have left my perfect crimes in the future.
(What was it he said about my tenses?)
As for yesterday …

I dash off a fresh draft. No time for this!
I need to choose my next implement. A screwdriver,
perhaps? Nice small hole, much less blood spatter.
I arrive at the appointed hour. He gives his verdict:
’Repetitive navel gazing. Needs a narrative arc.’
My hand arcs upwards, his eyes roll back,
the tool’s shaft pinning his spiteful tongue
like a dead butterfly.

OK, let’s try the day before yesterday.
Tuesday. He had a book signing.
Maybe he’ll be nicer in public,
with witnesses. ’Oh, shut up!’ I yell at the panicking onlookers,
clutching their (suddenly more valuable) signed copies.
Don’t they understand? It takes a long time
to beat a man to death with his own hardback novel.

Right, Monday! I tear the flyleaf out of the murder weapon
and hover his expensive signing pen over the blank page.
Inspiration strikes as the blue lights flash across the walls,
but I am gone before the tazer strikes.
He fingers the torn page curiously before he reads.
’Hmm, you have a good core idea. With a second draft,
this will be stronger.’ I smile. He’s right, of course.
I knew I could trust his judgement.
’But it’s too long and very repetitive. The same idea
worked over and over and over, again …’
I choose my next implement.

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"The World Is Ending, but the Drive Thru Is Still Open on Broadway and Eighth" by AJ Wentz

coiled around the purple building
like a restless wyrm, the line is full
of restless drivers. this drive thru is
the last and only reliable restaurant

no one understands why you can still
get a cheeseburger when supply chains
have been broken. there is no explanation
as to how the neon lights are lit when
the rest of the city has lost power

my apocalypses are no longer my own.
personal heartbreaks replaced by the
end of the world, and my comfort food
has become the comfort food of the
nation, indivisible under the neon signs

the cashier takes one look at my face
and throws in another handful of sauce

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Full Table of Contents

Departments

• Wyrms & Wormholes * Jean-Paul Garnier
• SFPA Announcements
• President’s Message * Colleen Anderson
• From the Small Press * Herb Kauderer, John Reinhart, Lisa Timpf
• Stealth SF * “The Fault in Our Starts” * Denise Dumars
• SpecPo Publishing * Interview with Nicasio Andres Reed * Jean-Paul Garnier

Art

• The Botanist * Dante Luiz
• Pyramid Protector * Denny E. Marshall

Poetry

• Exploring Europa’s Icy Ocean * Lauren McBride
• A big red one coughed * Richard Magahiz
• [landslides] * D. A. Xiaolin Spires
• Is He Really My Brother If He Died Before I Was Born? * Jason P. Burnham
• [arrested for crimes] * Richard E Schell
• [after they carve our names] * Yuliia Vereta
• [a child shattering] * Joshua St. Claire
• Flow * Roger Dutcher
• Seek the Strawberry Plant * Devan Barlow
• The Chaos * Arukoya Tamois
• Spaceship schoolyard games * Kathryn Papadopoulos
• Or Just Another Hoax? * Sarah Cannavo
• The Time-Travelling Bystander * A J Dalton
• [supernova] * Mariel Herbert
• [The truth about our realities] * Yuliia Vereta
• Top Zombie Classic Rock Bands * Robert Frazier
• Just Outside of Chattanooga * Anna Madden
• Halls of the Dread Ship * Garrett Carroll
• Its boughs tangled in starlanes * Richard Magahiz
• Ahead * Roger Dutcher
• Getting to know you less and less * Richard Magahiz
• Overheard at a Spacestation Bar * Lauren McBride
• Cosmetic Cosmos * John H. Dromey
• Mimicry is Key * Jason P. Burnham
• The E. coli Sudoku Team * Art Holcomb
• [a dodo a day] * LeRoy Gorman
• Model X, 2075: Darling Companion * Elizabeth Fletcher
• Time to Stay Home * Lauren McBride
• my life thus far (at two months old) * Julie Allyn Johnson
• That Scream in the Night * RK Rugg
• [vampires, witches] * John Reinhart
• Life and Death on TerraX * H. V. Patterson
• Futures of Grandeur * Spencer Keene
• Pocket Black Hole * Casey Aimer
• [feelings of insignificance] * Royal Baysinger
• A Feast for Dark Angels * Marge Simon
• On A Spaceship * Bailey Thomas
• [repurpose, reuse, renew] * Lauren McBride
• Skull, knuckle * Nicholas Alti
• Sol Three Must Be Saved * David C. Kopaska-Merkel
• Each Bite a Cleansing * Jenna Hanchey
• Lost in Time * DJ Tyrer
• Solar Eclipse * James Arthur Anderson
• The Present * Ian Willey
• Our Blessed Technologies, Their Barbarous Technologies * Jenna Le
• [Haunted house adapts to 21st century] * Alan Ira Gordon
• Sevenling (Tomorrow) * Caleb Edmondson
• Spectacles on the Local Asteroid Casino * M. Ray Vidrine
• Hardcore * Mary Soon Lee
• Time and Heat * Josh Pearce
• The Last Human Being * Alessio Zanelli
• Pathology Report * M. Frost
• [age is just numbers] * Howard V. Hendrix
• Happier Ever After #2 * Mary Soon Lee
• [great-great-Grandma] * David C. Kopaska-Merkel
• A Frog Laments * Devan Barlow
• Irrevocable * Adele Gardner
• The Artist Traveling Through Time & Space * Marge Simon
• At the Brink of Insanity * Veda Villiers
• Found poetry: Electronic Readout at Gate 27, from Halon City to the Galactic Fulcrum * Brian Hugenbruch
• On the Run * Jordan Hirsch
• [those awful things I said] * Royal Baysinger
• [fading light] * Greg Schwartz
• Alien Skies * Gregory M. Thompson
• When Are You? * F. J. Bergmann
• The Song of the Dragon Nidhogg * A J Dalton
• [I land] * Alper Ghuchlu
• [Goldilocks Zone] * Anna Cates
• Since Utopia * Mary Soon Lee
• koi pond * Richard E Schell
• Contravention * F. J. Bergmann
• [Merfolk] * Denise Dumars
• Five Ways To Murder Your Mentor * Michael Victor Bowman
• [she pencils in her murder] * Amber Winter
• Undoing the deeds * Richard Magahiz
• The Final Anthropomorphism * Frank Leblanc
• [cowboys passing through] * Royal Baysinger
• The World Is Ending, but the Drive Thru Is Still Open on Broadway and Eighth * AJ Wentz
• Aberration of Light * Jennifer Crow
• [al dente] * Greg Schwartzback
• Burying the Captain, the Legend * Lauren McBride
• Burnout * Sydney Bernthold