I’m thankful that my poem “Guts in Moon Dust” has found a home. You can visit it at Polu Texi: A Magazine of Many Arts.
This science fiction poem might reflect today’s world events.
A more personal experience from almost three years ago is also reflected in it. While moving long distance for a new life, my health failed. Because so much was dependent on my ability to work, or at least to negotiate, my vague dreams were quickly destroyed. With intimidating debts and what felt like no way to escape a hostile environment where my disabilities put me in danger from the apathetic people and organizations I needed for survival, I could feel almost no hope. In attempts to rise beyond feelings of hopelessness, I frequently wondered if, on my death, my body would return to my childhood home.
I have written several poems and a short story from my feelings at the time. Each goes into a different genre. “Guts to Moon Dust” was a near-future imagining of the ageless story about a dangerous journey to what was promised to be a better life, but which ends with entrapping disappointment.
I would very much like it not to be anyone’s future.