death, in a fashion
dawn vogel
there's arsenic in the dye,
but am I not luminous in this green gown?
(and if I were to survive this,
live to see a different century,
might I not be given a tiny paintbrush,
dipped in radium-226, sharpened with my tongue,
to paint the hands of a watch
another luminous green?)
my golden bangles glitter in the light,
wealth on display, the most valuable thing.
(cyanide and mercury pulled them from the ore,
broken bodies, broken lives, broken promises,
ecological devastation in their wake,
not the tiny tinkling sounds they make
on wrists complicit,
drenched in someone else's blood.)
jeans of the bluest blue
synthetic indigo overdyed distressed.
(maybe the rivers don't catch fire anymore.
that doesn't mean they're clean.
we dream of blue waters,
but synthetic indigo blue is not the color in dreams.
hydrocide is a nasty word.
what it means is worse.)
vol. 01
summer 2021
A black and white up close photo of a white person with an asymmetrical haircut, cat eye glasses, a plaid scarf, and a denim vest featuring a Ravenclaw house enamel pin.
about the artist
Dawn Vogel's academic background is in history, so it's not surprising that much of her fiction is set in
earlier times. By day, she edits reports for historians and archaeologists. In her alleged spare time, she runs a craft business, co-runs a small press, and tries to find time for writing. Her steampunk adventure series, Brass and Glass, is available from DefCon One Publishing. She is a member of Broad Universe, SFWA, and Codex Writers. She lives in Seattle with her husband, author Jeremy Zimmerman, and their herd of cats. Visit her at http://historythatneverwas.com.