R'lyeh Sutra by Skawt Chonzz Page A

Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate, whereby the spheres meet(1) ... his Globes be (seven) in number, have diverse names ... forms ... they are the powers of the parasite-horde ... his servitors and do his bidding in the world ... and then he will come to you and bring his Globes and he will give true answer to all you desire to know(2).
    1H P Lovecraft, The Dunwich Horror
    2Wilson / Hay The Book of Dead Names
    >> globe.01 / GOMORY / golden crowned camel
/ knowledge of magical talismans
    >> in her hands she brought me onyx jade silver
    colours of a north pacific winter
    socked in with cedar and damp
    we waited like stones
    a knotted black cord round her left wrist
    promise of laboured breathing in dark humid corners
    >> globe.02 / ZAGAN / great bull &/or terrible King
/ mysteries of the sea
    >> croaking allegiances with the landotter people
    servile phantom intelligences languishing
    in ghost-houses under the waves
    half-tales round the fire
    built of dream fragments and shell casings
    recall that incest has always been the privilege of royalty
    >> globe.03 / SYTRY / demon Prince (60 legions)
/ knowledge of times to come
    >> radios squawking unkind things in the twilight
    tungsten revelations suspended in glass
    all our molecules agitated
    by high-energy attack`
    dancing the twitch the spastic the tremens
    velocity of sparrows and the tragic hive collapse
    >> globe.04 / ELIGOR / red man with iron crown
/ victory in war
    >> we launch glowing feral ordinance into the singularity
    gamma ray protests against our own weakness
    these grenades blow up
    inside journals not yet written
    your sweat tastes like shrapnel and orphans
    to fight is to grow rich inch by incidental inch
    >> globe.05 / DURSON / raven (22 familiar demons)
/ reveals occult secrets
    >> this hollowed earth oratory suspiciously lacking in echo
    neon grimoires spilled over spread sheets
    womb imagery coiled
    beneath barcodes and bright plastic
    it’s the migraine discretion of the addict we feel
    all our whispers soundbit with zero nutritional value
    >> globe.06 / VUAL / a dark cloud
/ all manner of ancient tongues
    >> Time locks down around us by each tumblered second
    all words save those of binding lost
    the cannibalized libraries
    sigh in stiff late-autumn austerities
    chew on this lotus and consult the book of hours
    our language is born of magma hiss and raptor scratch
    >> globe.07 / ANABOTH / yellow toad
/ tells of strange and hidden things
    >> secret gods of closet moon and discarded sunken city
    nautiloid eyes pick photons out of the black
    I am seventeen hesitations
    at the sight of your discarded promise
    bleached whalebone splinters under my nails
    I consign to the forest loam your onyx jade silver

     

 

In the original conception of R’lyeh Sutra , the following centrefold piece was imagined as a charming pop-up feature. The reader, upon reaching the middle of the chapbook, would be treated to / assaulted by a complex origami eidolon of Cthulhu, unfolding crisply from His tomb and ready for worship.
    However, after a week of horror on the factory floor, seeing my staff of migrant workers messily absorbed, one after the other, into the howling voids concealed behind the paper-cut-thin non-Euclidean angles of the cursed pop-up, I realized that costs needed to be cut somewhere.
    And so, Plan B: the Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe.
    An asemic spell in three parts, the Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe began as a long night of automatic writing. The Atchison : a channelled text from either an ultra-terrestrial entity with whom I have had a long history of possession/collaboration, or an autonomous ego splinter ejected from a psyche fractured by many years of sorcerous practice (a distinction entirely dependent on what floats your own ontological boat), this ‘meaningless’ document was written on a roll of newsprint. The session lasted four hours, peppered with blackouts, glossolalia and fugue states. Nine feet of newsprint was filled. I may have