said the spider to the fly [and other massacres]

There’s no hope for me,
I’ve been set free.
There’s no breeze,
There’s no ship on my sea.

bombing season is upon us

preparations

lady sonnabend only visits us when she’s in the mood

otherwise the heat gets to our head

and we pretend

said the spider to the fly

she’s not a god but very close to one
i’me not acquainted with her well enough to distinguish her features
only that she can be mistaken for retinal floaters
dressed in black or silver
her son is called sun drunk

they who honour the false gods

those who honour the false suffer the most

scared of arachne and ariadne

how else do you plan on freeing yourselves?

‘those whose views are not strange are false

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