I’m thankful that my science fiction poem “Guts to Moon Dust” has settled. You can read it for free at Polu Texi: A Magazine of Many Arts.
My health failed during my last cross-country move. Because so much is dependent on the ability to work, or at least to negotiate, using more resources that I had, my vague dreams for a better life 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 hold little hope for anything to improve. In attempts to rise beyond feelings of hopelessness, I frequently wondered if I could convince someone to return my body to my childhood home on my death.
I have written in multiple genres poems and a short story from my feelings at the time. “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.
Science fiction can reflect real politics. I would very much like the fiction to not to be anyone’s future.