The millionaires on Mars sit at red volcanic balconies, evading the monotony of everyday life, like taxes.
Writing by Jo Morrigan Black
Art by Chris James
Self-Made
The millionaires on mars
sit at red volcanic balconies,
evading the monotony of everyday life
like taxes
no one’s there to clean their windows, so they can’t see far
the dusty shape of the canyon
looks a lot like a reopened scar;
they are idle
with no rent to collect,
growing hungry
with no goods to consume,
at first, they tried to import
the blackened third-world crops,
but the Earth had well and truly
gone flat.
So they ate the standard poodles;
ten, they ate the toy poodles
and the toy poodles’ clothes;
they ate the bands off their apple-watches,
the leather off their shoes. They ate
the pinkies and the ring-fingers,
the lip-fillers and cheeks. They ate their nails;
finally,
the rich were shadows of themselves,
drifting over red planet dust
About the Author
Jo Morrigan Black is a Paris-born poet and visual artist of Irish, French and American nationalities. They bridge seas through poetry and cultural anthropology, investigating migration paths and experiences of liminality. Jo has worked with indigenous leaders in Colombia, left stray feathers in Berlin and stalked the streets of Dublin as a vampire. Their stage performances combine poetry, physical theatre and drag in order to celebrate the queer and the unknowable in each of us.
About Chris James
Chris is a graphic designer and visual artist who resides in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. He enjoys living a mostly hermitic lifestyle with his family while striving to perfect a range of visual art techniques, honing his culinary skills, and chasing the heels of technological advancements. His current interests include 3D design, animation, AI technology, and puppet making at the behest of his oldest child.
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