The title comes from the word brontide, meaning a distant rumbling sound, such as that of earthquakes or thunder.

Spruces, high on hillsides,
thin out in the valley basin
to reveal a dark place,
a village of morbid phalanxes
of families, ingrown, inbred.
They proffer animals to each other,
sexual gratification crossing species.
In Brontidiana, the ground always shudders in the distance.

They share children,
livestock, mothers, fathers, siblings.
They rape, they murder,
they devalue and devolve.
But the outside world's fascination only grows.
There is something unsettlingly human about them,
not their shapes nor sizes,
neither their eyes nor teeth.
They are primal, the dark fantasies fulfilled.
They offer escapists the chance of escapism,
a view to a life free of vice.
In Brontidiana, perfection is but a thunderclap away.

A girl from a family of hikers,
no more than twelve,
wandered through the spruces
looking for her parents she had wandered from.
Her calls were unanswered.
Then, as the spruces cleared,
she saw a village,
smoke climbing from a chimney,
the breeze sending the smoke to her nostrils in dendrites,
the unmistakable aroma of pork.
A storm was nearby,
so she ran towards the village.
In Brontidiana, outsiders are as welcome as thunder.

Her parents arrived in the village
as their daughter's womb turned on a spit
above a hellish fire.
The thick lining of semen bubbled and spat,
sending deformities screeching for cover.
A baby was sucking upon a thumb, unattached.
A mandible, fresh with skin,
was being plucked of teeth.
A breast was being licked,
the nipple bitten off several hours ago.
The parents received wounds to their throats
before their eyes were snapped loose
and devoured by hungry drunks.
An adolescent horror dragged away
the limp body of the father.
Behind a boulder, he dragged a blade
along the raphe.
In Brontidiana, the earth shudders in disgust.

A father deformity made love
to his deformed daughter and son.
As the world turned and advanced,
Brontidiana slipped backwards through time,
to a point where thunder was worshipped as evil,
where society was orgiastic.
This is Brontidiana,
the dark pit inside,
population: You and your fantasies.