Rise of the Eschatons, image by Daniel Y. Harris
Excerpts from Doomsday
Bunker
Labyrinth + Nozzle
This
is horrible
as
a leather cupcake and
as
delicious too.
It
is roadkill and cloud erection
thrills
of whales leaping
from
miniature oceans
only
to fall back into
paranoid
computational
theories.
Thank goodness
for
red vines crawling a rock face
in
a hopscotch neighborhood.
This
feels like a comfortable
if
out-of-use silo only
D.
H. L. would pinch
the
nipples of. Break off
another
heel with
a
buttered face and a hairdo
of
live eels. Bulls are
appropriated
for art daily
and
the tornado that
sucked
up a tidy lawn
has
sprayed it against the walls
of
the book somebody
will
check out indefinitely
tomorrow.
Another child
is
weaponizing bones while reading
The
Anathemata. It’s true
coffee
is a necessity
for
millions who have trouble
sleeping
with stranglers.
As Cinematic as
Fingers
The
ring goes boom!
The
ring is panoramic.
The
ring adds color
to
watery horoscopes.
Pump
a series of hairy fangs
into
the spirit of the ring.
The
ring! The ring! It is
a
byte and a conglobulation
of
bytes sliding up the banister.
The
ring is made of wings
and
flies around the banister
in
a large trunk with
an
escort. Kindness
is
erasing generic notions
of
equality while the ring
glints
in real time
as
if Bavarian gentians
are
typically spun
from
neon code. Love
is
talking in a forest of toes. Love
is
reducible to quantity.
Tomorrow
shocks from the future
are
collaged into excesses
of
Northern Light activity.
The
ring slides between
animal
species. From crevasses
glands
drip pheromones
leaving
eyelashes in various states
of
distortion. A vodka cream puff
sleeps
inside the moon.
W of Bones
A
priss knows hard work
is
the celestial root.
In
the photo of No Go
along
gloppy edges people
are
running in terror.
People
are kissing in rain
in
antique photographs
where
conscious choice
writhes
in lavender water.
It
is time to detonate
the
eyes of bees covered
in
dust in Wittgensteinian
pudding
rare as the grass straying
the
shallows of rivers.
A
data scoop through
the
backdoor left firebrands
scattered
across elastic meadows.
The
academe, the academe
is
waiting for new liver petals.
In
breech a stain of pain
beeps
major allegiance
walks
backward through
compartmentalization.
Hordes
of
seasick wires are warming
the
black Northern air. John F.
is
the rivulet he was
before
his birth. Try wrecking
a
poet’s name by changing a letter.
The
pants proper exercise
will
inspire are fantastic foil!
Astrological
Proclivities
Bells
from hell are clanging
through
water lilies
and
numerous hours
are
squishy now. Gemini + Virgo
=
Virgo + Gemini. The best time
for
easing into happiness
is
now. All live in a good world
which
will achieve totality
of
saturation tomorrow at noon.
It
is night across most of space.
Space
is big. Spacious even.
All
touch space. All are comprised
mostly
of ghostly space. Space
is
what makes a good world.
Space
also makes hours squishy.
Space
is easy. It’s the good world
and
all else exuding complexity.
Thank
goodness for complexity!
Space
is an infant being
continuously
birthed into
a
casket covered with hashtags.
Because
of this sentient beings
each
have a star sign
although
inanimate objects
do
not. Period. Because of this
commas
are mostly extraneous
and
days of the week break
out
their finest occultwear.
Rusty
gills are exhuming magic
spires
puncturing heaven.
To a Culture
Vulture
Yesterday
is the preferable day
for
humanity. It is the day
life
slides gracefully through
its
own veins. Yesterday
is
a basket fashioned from silk.
What
matters more however
is
what will happen tomorrow.
Today
is the sigil of tomorrow.
Today
is the sigil of weird
analytics
which must be stopped
before
they can curtain
windows.
All who yearn
for
weird analytics will be
tasked
with creating interface
for
animadversive investors
in
the sigil of tomorrow. Silk
+
milk = milk × silk ÷ by tomorrow.
These
are not equations.
These
are facts and eventually
facts
will erase tomorrow.
A
doctor finds pleasure
in
keeping tomorrow alive today.
A
doctor is a demon of sorts.
When
a hand lands it snorts
in
a manner Paul V. once felt
shapeshifting
up his elemental
spine.
A doctor breaks the unity
of
earth water fire and air. All
are
prepared to gesticulate among
mounds
of paint powder.
The
Congratulators
Owls
are perched along
the
bottoms of her eyelids.
Owls
clear as dreams
are
guiding her to the next reddit
selling
fried baloney sandwiches.
A
sea soused up the sun
and
clacked around in armor
colored
by newish fevers. Owls ensure
it’s
time for an omnivorous snorkel
and
a praise. Owls with oars
for
feathers are resisting
metronomic
currents in bio lines.
Thank
goodness for owls!
When
music blows out
of
nuclear devices the talons
of
owls will defend what is left
of
nature leaving only the unnatural
world
to burn. Owls will be
headquartered
at hidden locations
beneath
mountains. Although the air
wants
punctuation thank goodness
for
drinkable water! Thank goodness
for
stubbornness and folly! One day
sock
phobias will evaporate. For
now
it’s time to drink as H. said at C.’s
demise.
Someday drinking will save
the
owls. Thank goodness
for
voices of owls! Thank goodness
for
rocking chairs and reddits
and
the bottoms of her eyelids!
—Nathan
Spoon