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Embroidery by Leela Bear

Medusa and the Robot

January 06, 2018 by Ali Wolffgang

Her eyes were glazed over as her hair gave a hiss

that echoed across the lonely desert abyss.

Medusa was anxious, feeling very alone,

because she could not love, without turning to stone.

 

The snakes jerked and rattled- they were distraught

and perpetually wrathful, though Medusa was not.

She felt guilt and depression; she longed for a stroke

of comfort and love, from a lovely, comfortable bloke.

 

Medusa gently walked, against the windy resistance

but then! she saw someone, alone in the distance.

His surface was glimmering off the moon’s charming haze

but before she could look, Medusa darted her gaze.

 

“Hello,” said the stranger, in a choppy, cool way,

“I’m alone and disparate and have had a terrible day.

As a blunt, direct fellow, and because of this weather,

I was hoping that we could survive this... together?”

 

Medusa was captured by his calmness and mystery;

to her, this very feeling was unrivalled in history.

Her mind grew torn- attraction duelling morality,

because she knew that her lust would bring sober fatality.

 

“I long for your presence, but I can’t meet your eye

or you will grow cold, like this shrill desert sky.”

Her respondent was quiet, computing his brain,

then he spoke: “but I’m a robot- I feel no pain.”

 

She knew not to look, but her heart took the peek

so her eyes locked with his, and the robot grew meek.

His heart! it could flutter, as it had never been known,

and he at last felt real love, before turning to stone.

January 06, 2018 /Ali Wolffgang

Illustrations by Venus Lukic

A Little Grain of Rice

January 06, 2018 by Ali Wolffgang

To be completely anonymous with zero credential
is a cliche that remains dauntingly existential.
And no could bear it, like life wouldn’t suffice,
as much as one lonely, depressed grain of rice.

It looked up to the world, feeling like shit,
aside a trillion grains as unimpressive as it.
Though in earlier days, it dreamed up its meaning,
now, every tribute seemed trite and demeaning.

“I’m but one being, within limitless matter,
but to think of my end makes me so, so much sadder.
This galaxy’s huge, so who, then, am I?
My smiles are worthless; it means less when I cry.”


When death’s cold, metal fingers finally came,
Rice feared for the dullness, and for the pain.
But suddenly! It was shocked out of a daze
When just one slice of kimchi found its embrace.

All at once, the past and future were banished,
and as Rice met Kimchi, anxiety vanished.
From inside themselves, a fresh truth was revealed,
though it always existed, now its form had appeared.

The moment was eternal, like the moon and the sun,
and the whole world unravelled, as two flavors turned one.
Kimchi was everything rice needed to face it,
fore how perfectly acidic, to counter something so basic!

“To me, you are all,” Kimchi relayed with silence,
and Rice saw real miracles- rebirth and nonviolence.
Though they were just two, among infinite form,
their connection turned death into comfortable warmth.

January 06, 2018 /Ali Wolffgang

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