I am developing an aversion to spiders. There is something disturbing in that.
Consumed by an oil spill caught in a slow-moving storm
Sending wave upon wave of sticky defilement on virgin shores.
Moral outrage it is good, it is just, it is true.
And manipulated.
Obfuscating outrages conjured by those in charge.
Whose violations are devastating my soul.
What happenstance conspired to cause the use of the betrayals of the young?
Betrayals by oily spiders spotlighted on rocks.
Where lurk the web spinners with their shiny black backs?
I am developing an aversion to spiders. There is something disturbing in that.
