ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  November 2013
volume 10 number 2
-table of contents-
 
  home   (archived)
 
  contributing poets
  Lynn Albanese
  Jonathan Beale
  Michael Caylo-Baradi
  Charles Claymore
  Christiane Conésa-Bostock
  Flavia Cosma
  Gareth Davies
  Diane Dehler
  Maurice Devitt
  Tyler Dupuis
  Sabrina Edwards
  Neil Ellman
  R.M. Engelhardt
  Rebecca Gimblett
  Jeffrey Graessley
  John Grey
  James Hall
  A J Huffman
  Lee Mason
  Deborah McCreath-Akbar
  Tom O'Reilly
  Angel Uriel Perales
  Frank Praeger
  Kevin Ridgeway
  Walter Ruhlmann
  Howard Sage
  John Saunders
  Allen Taylor
  Sarah Thursday
  Philomena van Rijswijk
  Daniela Voicu
 
  home
  poets
  poems
  archive
  submissions
  mailing list
  store
  links
  contact
   
Tyler Dupuis
November 2013
   

 

bio


art by paradoxius

    Tyler Dupuis is 24 years old. He is from New Hampshire, and now lives in Los Angeles. He almost has a degree in Biology.
tdupuis42@gmail.com

   

 

Terraform

He was watching a TV show about the planet Mars,
which wasnt making him feel any better. There werent
many channels to choose from since she left
and took the cable with her,
so it was either this or infomercials.
On the show, they were talking about how Mars used to be a wet planet.
There are stones all over its surface that have rounded edges,
caressed for ages by water way back when.
There are rivulets and trenches dug by gentle streams. Lakes,
maybe even oceans used to exist on Mars, which all would have been
a great growing place for little bits of life of some kind. But then
not too long ago (as far as planets go, anyway),
it all started to disappear, and now theres none left, except for some
frost underground, or locked up in ice at the poles.

It made him angry that something like that could happen,
and so suddenly. And even if someone felt like bringing some water from Earth
up there, to return some moisture to thirsty Mars, it wouldnt do any good at all
because it would just freeze solid in a second and that would be that.
He sipped his drink he had in hand and tried to savor the feeling
of the liquid touching his lips, but it burned instead.

The TV flickered in the room, flashing blue on
the bare walls. It was showing pictures from one of the rovers on the surface,
panoramas of the desert world. He felt bad for those lonely rovers, crawling around so slowly
over a tiny corner of a dead planet, sifting through handfuls of rust, like they were thinking,
What happened here? What the hell happened?

copyright 2013 Tyler Dupuis