Speculative Fiction and Poetry
Interview with John C. Mannone
A.R. Do you write poetry, prose, or a mixture of both? J.C.M. Yes, both–about 80% poetry, 10% creative nonfiction, 10% fiction A.R. Have you every done any journalistic writing? J.C.M. No, but I served as the editor of a technical journal for the… 
Singularity by John C. Mannone
Singularity John C. Mannone I approach the event horizon of what looks like a spinning black hole just a little too close whether by accident or miscalculation, it doesn’t really matter. My sensors sample wind from stars caught in its grip: a fierce tsunami…
Orion and the Bull by John C. Mannone
Orion and the Bull John C. Mannone When I look up to the stars in a Halloween sky I imagine a constellation of fools chasing each other round and round the ecliptic stairway, sidestepping snakes and scorpions. I don’t think Orion as a hunter…
Listening to the Relics of Our Galaxy by John C. Mannone
Listening to the Relics of Our Galaxy John C. Mannone Astrophysicists from the University of Birmingham have captured the sounds of some of the oldest stars in our galaxy, the Milky Way, according to research published today in the Royal Astronomical Society journal Monthly…
Before the Dark Reposes by John C. Mannone
Before the Dark Reposes John C. Mannone After The Coming of Light by Mark Strand Even this early, just before the dawn, before the light can burn away hatred, when sleep hangs in sticky air as flies, demons…
π by John C. Mannone
π John C. Mannone 3.141592… is transcendental and that doesn’t mean spiritual here, but yes, quite irrational and infinitely nonrepeating at least to 31.4 trillion digits in this mundane dimension. But in that universe full of haunts and haints, they ain’t staying put. They…
Various Haiku by John C. Mannone
Various Haiku John C. Mannone one small step for man first to the moon then beyond stairway to heaven ———————— Nuclear winter No sun in sight We glow in the dark ————————- Mountains & Seas mountains scribe sky sunset paints the tips praise etched…
Remains at an Archeological Site by John C. Mannone
Remains at an Archeological Site John C. Mannone Uncovered skull, disheveled bones, knuckles of the right hand curled around ivory (handle of a dagger), pelvis of a woman, ribcage busted close to the where the heart had been. The way the bones broke and…
House of the Rising Sun by John C. Mannone
House of the Rising Sun John C. Mannone The shot glass shatters in his hand as he slams it on the bar. His callous hand doesn’t stop the blood. And the bartender says something wrong. The drunk says he’s not a sociopath, just a…
Bewitching Words by John C. Mannone
Bewitching Words John C. Mannone I found a poem in a coven of words hiding in enchanted inculcations of a psalm but it morphed as if a spell had been cast so they flew away t•h•i•r•t•e•e•n b•l•a•c•k letters fluttering as birds
A New Way to Fight a World War, 2525 C.E. by John C. Mannone
A New Way to Fight a World War, 2525 C.E. John C. Mannone Score Board: Western Conference, 700 million down Eastern Conference, 1.2 billion down Opposing teams face off on the line of scrimmage, reminiscent of ancient football and gladiator games but without flesh…
Blue Flowers by John C. Mannone
Blue Flowers John C. Mannone . After ‘Rapunzel’ An old witch desired the young virgins; they could stop the withering of time with their hair full of elixir oil. A crooked smile writhed on her wrinkled face; her eyes gleamed when she came to…
Bubonic by John C. Mannone
Bubonic: It was much too wet John C. Mannone When glaciers melt, the Arctic sea will rise, push south, edging the warm currents. Cirrus-clouded air will follow the new jet stream. Rain will fall in torrential heat unto land that had only known ice…
The Photograph by John C. Mannone
The Photograph John C. Mannone The fireplace embers a warmth into the room, coals glow dull red, cold air lifts its bitter edge. I see you on our favorite sofa, the one with paisley cones, feathered cushions. You in silk, provocative, sheer lavender clinging…
Giant Hogweed by John C. Mannone
Giant Hogweed John C. Mannone Their evolution: like caustic words, the burning lye coursing through their green veins, furanocoumarins in their sap-stem stained purple, warted like sin branching out to all the world, white lacy umbels reaching to sun to soak sarcastic light slaked…
Night Train by John C. Mannone
Night Train John c. Mannone Clouds paled yellow—a lutescence of insect wings— before the swarm of wind shook the sky. The weather radio crackled, hissed its tornado warning while sunlight waned behind the thickening darkness. Only a moment ago, the quiet Midwest air didn’t…
A special announcement from John C. Mannone
I am delighted to be the recipient of the 2017 Horror Writers Association Scholarship. (The announcement of winners is found here: http://horrorscholarships.com/2017-scholarship-winners/). The $2500 prize is for approved spending on education-related activities that aids me in the perfection of my craft, especially in my…
Toasting Progress by John Reinhart
Toasting Progress John Reinhart Squeamish about testing on animals, leery of testing on myself, I grabbed the next best thing: a toaster, something I wouldn’t miss from the shelf. Squeamish about testing, my teleportation experimenting, I reached for the button and pressed – I…
Cooking with Extinction by John Reinhart
Cooking with Extinction John Reinhart Thoughtscapes of undulating brontosauri meander over the kitchen counter while we prepare our breakfast. A mastodon lounges near the toaster, absorbing a little of the extra warmth. A pterodactyl scratches at a faint memory from last night, never bringing…
voyage stranded by John Reinhart
voyage stranded John Reinhart spaceship broken spoken spellings texting homeward hopeful magic sandhills castles building telling message blankly blinking tragic captain spoken motions lighten heavy demons dreaming sadly spaceship flounders never brightens cloudy climate planet gladly texture tincture foreign fracture matter science healthy civil…
Marbles by John C. Mannone
Marbles John C. Mannone My solar system is a mobile of marbles circling the sun. But not any simple sun like all the others bending space and time. Here, space-time warps right back. Each time the red dwarf flares, light loops into another dimension,…
Happy Hour at Drake’s Lounge by John C. Mannone
Happy Hour at Drake’s Lounge John C. Mannone
Waterworld by John C. Mannone
Waterworld John C. Mannone We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. —T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets Twilight air, thin. Sun, setting…
Hunting by John C. Mannone
Hunting John C. Mannone He was always a farmer, but now the ground is too hard to till—cracked clay, starved for rain, a wilderness he did not expect. His wife pregnant with twins (she just knew). Hunger gnaws their bellies, regret refluxes their throats….
Yellow Spiders by John C. Mannone
Yellow Spiders John C. Mannone I hid from the sky yellowed with the rotting sun, and from bombs exploding behind the cumulonimbus. My heart shattered anyway shrapneling troops, tattering uniforms: the blue and the gray. Young bones, pierced in the carnage, escaped through…
Matthew’s Diary by John C. Mannone
Matthew’s Diary John C. Mannone Matthew tosses in his sleep, sits up on the rumpled canvas in his wedge-tent, and cradles his face. He stares into the crevices of the dark corner. The moon throws his lanky shadow on the other wall; he is…
Pharaoh’s Eye by John C. Mannone
Pharaoh’s Eye John C. MannoneSacrilege. Intrusion into Egyptian chambers, looting the relics: rubies, emeralds, gold scepters, the king’s sarcophagus. No one’s watching but the scarabs that scurry down the stone maze of passageways now choking with sand falling as rain. Darkness closes in, muffles…
You Always Said You Could Swim Like a Fish by John C. Mannone
You Always Said You Could Swim Like a FishJohn C. MannoneYou, in that black cocktail dress,red heels stiletto-ing floor. Legs,sinuous in the ballroom. We embrace, my hands on the arch of your back.Outside, salt water sings. Beckons.Caribbean air mists its magic over us.Let us…
Two Blue Stockings Review Podcast
