Life in The Spider

It was an orange labyrinth-animal whose head consisted of a white pustular abscess, an immense although relatively small head compared to her monstrous and disproportionate body: every now and then, the putrid cutaneous capsule of The Spider was pressed with fury by her sons, and thin jets of yellow pus were spasmodically ejaculated through a narrow hole that got opened with indescribable pain in the lustrous skin of the beast, like a sick orgasm of suffering.

The Spider twisted her grey tentacles, erect breasts, rocky abdomen and infected vagina every time her head was burst, and its repugnant juices were ejected.. and those juices provoked blindness and dementia on the poor disgraced who was touched by it, while the beast incurvated her torso in nauseous algophilia, opening her mouth of kilometers to roar with deafening voice, like a gargantuan bull, or a panther; or like the sound of the many waters in the typhoon.

Ecstatic in the pleasure of her tense epidermic ardor, The Spider clamored blasphemies of hate and promises of revenge on her captive sons and daughters, and her voice sounded in 1000 different manners: like the vampiric whisper of the homicidal Lamia, or like the ululant song of the infuriated Maenads; like the dry thunder on the calcinated hill, or like the abnormally intense purr of a moribund cat.

Because I was trapped in The Spider, horizontal Belial whose structures are interminable; because her system [of corridors, arteries, entanglements, diagonal derivations and mazes] is deeper than life.

The epidermis of this insecta was made of petrified fecal matter and aerolites fallen on smoky and depopulated zones: once the monster was created she possessed her creators, copulating with them and procreating children with whom she could procreate more.

Because The Spider existed to fornicate with her daughters and sons and multiply her whoresons.

And everybody who was breastfed by the suppurating milk of her flaccid mammae knew that her 700,000 circumvallations, rotundas, junctions, highways, thoroughfares, passageways, alleys and tubes of concrete led to unexpected and random points of herself.

Because I lived trapped in La Araña, whose hardened veins are putrid and never
ever
end.

Ingeniero Bunge[sic], Rotonda de Bancalari, Ranelagh, Chorroarín, Autopista, Camino de Cintura, Avda. Perito Moreno, Larroque y Camino Negro, Acceso Oeste, Calle Molina Arrotea, Pavón derecho, Puente La Noria, Empalme Ricchieri, Autopista Dellepiane, Avda. General Paz, Juan B. Justo y Havana, Puente Los Cardales, Estación Moreno, Merlo Gómez, González Catán, Burzaco Centro, Banfield Este, Munro, Estación Temperley, Sub Empalme Haedo-Aldo Bonzi, Villa Caraza, Isla Maciel, Wilde, Camino General Belgrano y Boulevard de los Italianos, Calle Margarita Weild: baño público de la Estación Lanus, Avda. Sáenz y Mom, Panamericana y Márquez, Avda. Donato Álvarez.


Used to the somatic responses, this mecopteran bug-net gave herself digital dormant pupas in her vulva, which later evolved into vectors with hardened cocoon.

Her antennae, labia, trochanter, proboscis and air sacs were interconnected with her viscous alae or wings, creating a membranous sensorial structure that kept the beast always alert: her 200,000,000 eyes patrolled her whole bodily surface, on which her prisoners lived; body and jail of millions... in December and January, the hot rain created an alluvial effect in her veins-streets.
Many died in the atmospheric boiling steam, while others... survived?

The Spider is still there, in her place. 
Millions are still trapped in her warm and nauseating juices, with their feet stuck to her carcinogenetic flesh, while some few could escape.

But every son who escaped from her calaboose-body was accursed by the insect.. so I guess I am maledicted forever to death (but.. when I was not?)