Juggler of sparks, wireless-dreamer, the little lightnings that crawled your nerves sing out into the world forever. Every pylon makes a monument. Your dovecote heart still resounds with grey wings drumming. Another future slid away with you: a vacuum stitched with voices falls dumb, no telegrams arrive from Mars. Dreadnoughts fought bloodless wars only in your mind; but, like flowers, we press your dreams inside pulp magazines.
Mathew Joiner lives near Birmingham, England. His fiction and poetry have appeared in Never Again, Not One Of Us, Goblin Fruit, and Strange Horizons.