All Tomorrow's Ancestors
The fossil air stiffens into breeze, into heat, folds light
over itself in waves, impossible to trace without smearing
the instruments with agency. Particularising whatever will be.
To read the rest of this poem and more by Alvin Pang, Ravi Shankar and Lisa Russ Spaar, as well as everything else in Issue 32 and other recent issues, visit our eShop to take out a subscription or buy a print or digital copy.
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