A short history of a universe in fold theory by James Walton

Cater is sixth generation.  The first messages took six months. It is now two hours. They are close. All droning work was finished, the machinery locked away in the preservation bay. The maintenance schedule has its own pace, a litany of processes now closer to manual control. The most interesting event is the daily air…

Poetry: The Assassination of Lincoln by James Walton

The Assassination of Lincoln I am breached through the back of my head an aperture to where the grass is true more civil than war all these lifeless children   mother of pearl a magnolia flower opened by time’s rebuttal half snow falling   as it trapes a zed pathway whetted thousands, words sacred as…

Poetry: Truman Capote’s brownstone by James Walton

Truman Capote’s brownstone Holly’s voice fingers digging between ribs the one-eyed cat’s zig zag troupe   the shower running   after the call up rooms full of old grey white men in avalanche interring country and western songs   a guitar taut as strung throats   no one’s Fred callow as a phone booth at…