poetry
last psalm
by P. H. Low in Issue Twenty-One, January 2026
that you might be appeased by one such as me.
that, smug on your garnet altar,
you would unhinge your jaws
and drink wetly of my fear,
as a thousand mahogany harps
tremble beneath your altar
and ten thousand haunted skeletons
writhe your praise.
yes, my cuffed hands clench;
there’s a clockwise twist in my depths.
so what? I played for you, once,
in the chief rector’s bone halls.
do you remember? were you pleased?
is that what caught your attention—
a joy so bright and sweet
you longed to cut it away?
© 2026 P.H. Low
P. H. Low
P. H. Low is an Ignyte-, Rhysling-, and Locus-nominated Malaysian American writer and poet whose debut novel, These Deathless Shores, is now out from Orbit Books (US) and Angry Robot (UK). Their shorter work is published or forthcoming in Uncanny Magazine, Strange Horizons, Reactor, Fantasy Magazine, and Diabolical Plots, among others. P. H. has a bad habit of moving cities every few years, but can be found online at phlow.com.