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(This poem is best viewed on a PC)

I met a traveler from a distant moon

Who said, A double arch of faded gold

Stands in the desert, on a fused glass dune.

Around it lichens shimmer in the cold

Of nuclear winter. With the sun at noon,

Traces of some great building can be seen,

A temple or a brothel, or perhaps

Something of both, or something in between.

(Arches like wings suggest a bird-god’s shrine)

Its secrets lost to us in its collapse.

And on a ruined wall, a faint sign:

“I’m lovin’ it.” Nothing beside remains.

Round the decay, forsaken and resigned,

The glassy waste endures black carbon rains.

Anna is a chemical engineer working in Silicon Valley, and enjoys writing poems about automatic titrators, technical supply chain processes, and occasionally even more fantastical things. Her work has appeared in Heroic Fantasy Quarterly and New (including a poem nominated for the 2023 Rhysling Award) and was awarded third prize at the 2022 Patricia Eschen Prize for Poetry. She can be found online at

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