2015: The Year to End All Years

A prediction from our favorite poet.

By Patricia Lockwood

Illustration by Ana Benaroya

2015 will be the year of hell that the prophecies promised us. Fireballs will rain from the sky, meteorites will streak nudely across the night, brimstone will rise up in volcanoes, and people will continue to write essays about whether or not the novel is dead. Father will turn against daughter, and the milf will turn against her son. The snow will be red as communism, and the farts of the dragon will be constant. The song of the year will be called “Poke Me, Father Pitchfork,” and on January 1st, you will turn on your television to find that the only thing it will play is that show about people who eat toilet paper. You will watch, hypnotized, eating square after absorbent square.

Patricia Lockwood is the author of Motherland Fatherland Homelandsexuals.

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