( via / me )

When Thunderbird battled Whale.

"Stop callinge them 'data centers' and starte callinge them 'slop peripherals' "
—@levostregc.bsky.social

"And they work in the void of the word, like astronauts marooned on dead-end planets..."

"Trilce X.

   The pristine and last stone of groundless
fortune, has just died
with soul and all, October bedroom and pregnant.
Of three months of absent and ten of sweet.
How destiny,
mitered monodactyl, laughs.

   How at the rear conjunctions of contraries
destroy all hope. How under every avatar's lineage
the number always shows up.

   How whales cut doves to fit.
How these in turn leave their beak
cubed as a third wing.
How we saddleframe, facing monotonous croups.

   Ten months are towed toward the tenth,
toward another beyond.
Two at least are still in diapers.
And the three months of absence.
and the nine of gestation.

   There's not even any violence.
The patient raises up
and seated empeacocks tranquil nosegays."

—Eshleman's Vallejo

"I am here today with a duty to the people who have not had the privilege of coming home."