the leviathan, whispers the steerer
we slipped
the dragon boat
into the skies
it floated off
us rowers
in sync
paddling off
the caller
a screech
of a voice
somehow projected
in the void of space
(how, we do not know)
we followed the
constellations
lapping through a
course so long
and somewhat windy
like cayuga lake
from where
the caller hails
she hails
YES
FORTH
the sound echoes
bouncing off something
something large
something alloyed
the leviathan,
whispers the steerer
the leviathan,
repeats us rowers
the caller drums
bum bum
the heartbeat
of our whiskered wooden
beast
another heartbeat
matches it
hollow, metallic
resounding
large
a tail swish,
and we are caught
in the tailwind
literally
atmosphere—
we must be
in the embrace
of a planet
but where is its curve?
where is its
seductive sphericity?
the leviathan
groans, roars
the dragonboat
moans, murmurs
slicing through
space
bum bum
the caller drums
strange scales
like solar panels
humps and protrusions
are they storage sites?
energy collection modules?
or weaponry?
will it shoot?
the monster draws us in
sinuous, lengthy
an arc of a neck
like the lochness
we shiver
goosebumps
swimmer’s ear
all is a fog
we’ve never been
this close before
once i saw it
from afar
on a trip through
asteroids—
my ma
told me
not to point
it’s not good luck
the leviathan,
whispered my ma
the leviathan,
whispered my lips—
the leviathan,
whispers the steerer
the leviathan,
repeats us rowers
echoing in
our heads
our auditory
canals
clogged
i stop rowing
i point
i can’t help myself
my paddle continues
to create a streak
moving on its own
phantom arcs
my teammates stop too
staring, gawking
mouths open
sucking in
some of its
aura
or something
its lamellar leviathanish
its sparkling stupendousness
we breathe out
rub our callouses
on our laboring palms
we are pulled in
not just by gravity
but the phantom paddlers
who sit in our seats
and inhabit our bodies
the leviathan drags us in
we dive into its scales
through its scales
into the body of its
planetary-sized self
a quiet world
marine, salt in our
noses
the water is hot
the seaweed slippery
little lochnesses
small like tadpoles
their humps bobbing
up and down
surround us
they are…
what are they?
eager, fresh, vital
like sperm
they want to mate
they want to row across
the celestial skies
not groan in place
in all its armor
it needs to send drones
to pitch little ones
across the galaxies
seedlings to explore
the phantoms
release us—
the dragonboat
no longer followed
by a wake of water lines
the dragonboat divides
each of us emerge
from liquid submersion
to a separate boat
as if through a portal—
manifesting, dripping
phantom paddlers populate
the empty seats
like non-playing characters
i shake my head
no…
i am both the steerer
and drumbeat
my brain short circuits
my arms stretch out
by rote memory
and grab the paddles
calluses ache
i call out
hailing
YES
conception
birth
the seedlings
we are one
YES
FORTH
i sweep forth
in wide crescents
cutting through space
humps along
my back
humps
along the waves
that follow behind me
humps
along my arms
once goosebumps
bloated large
pus-filled
drum-beating
heart-beating
where millions of
gametes lay
waiting
my outlaw in-law
my outlaw in-law
has
three tentacles
five glocks
and a cold, hard
stare
but their
deadliest attribute—
that can whip torrents
and crush souls?
their disapproval
gratuitous gratuity
hey, a tip?
if you’re going to give gratuity to the ferryman
drop some change into his skeletal hands
don’t use bitcoin
it falls right through
ends up sticking
to the bottom of
styx
it simply
tanks
Author’s Biography
D.A. Xiaolin Spires steps into portals and reappears in sites such as NY, Hawaiʻi, various parts of Asia and elsewhere, with her keyboard appendage attached. Her work appears in publications such as Clarkesworld, Analog, Strange Horizons, and anthologies of the strange and beautiful: Make Shift from MIT Press, Rosalind’s Siblings from Atthis Arts, and Life Beyond Us from The European Astrobiology Institute. Her works have been selected for The Year’s Top Robot and AI Stories, The Year’s Top Tales of Space and Time Stories and the The Year’s Top Hard Science Fiction Stories, with poetry nominated for Rhysling, Best of the Net and Pushcart awards. She is the author of the sci-fi novella Ellipses from Infinivox.
She has a Ph.D. in socio-cultural anthropology and has conducted National Science Foundation-funded research. Her multifaceted writing reflects her interest in food systems, ecology, technology and society. She has mentored through SFWA and has taught academic and creative writing to students at the college level. She speaks multiple languages, savors durians, dekopon and rose-apples and teaches stick-fighting and weapons-based martial arts. Brush in hand, she also paints fantastical art in sumi ink, gouache, watercolor and acrylic. When she’s not doing all these things, she is playing with meeples, cards and tiles, convening with good folk around a board game or RPG. She can be found on Bluesky: https://spires.bsky.social, Instagram https://www.instagram.com/spireswriter/ and on her website: daxiaolinspires.wordpress.com.
