Feeling Small, Bug Pirates
Bricks Gallery
8.5.–6.6.2026
[log entry 8163: a noble dragonfly, low tatras mtn range]
Hold your horses!
Liquorice roots at ready, broadleaf plantains up, pine needle bows at eye level, formic acid concoction at will
Charge!
30 thousand 100 milllion
have supper in forsaken building
Sensory horns tucked in
Dust busting
The angel’s blue, gargoyle of stone
Heart of gold, silver globe
Slanted stronghold, slippery slope
Subterrestial hallways, flooding with smoke
Whirring buzz not of us
discarded exoskeletons of cicadas
Shell shocked ladybirds and half strung webs
behemoths carpet bombing with eggs
Volcanic rumbles, sitting ducks
must not succumb to light bulbs
However
The bird a nest, the spider a web
morning dew hits the bullseye
Must gather windflowers for the mothers
tender loving care, flow and ebb
The merry bells ring to welcome the spring
gulping nectar of opulent flower
Tarantula children’s tiny choir sing
Den blomstertid nu kommer
Oh!
Break this heavy chain
that does freeze my bones around
Selfish! Vain!
Eternal bane!
that free love with bondage bound
Roses are planted where thorns grow
And on the barren heath
sing the honey bees
[log entry 8446: weary web master, trans-ili alatau mtn range]
My rusted wings creak in the wind
I haven’t found anyone to recruit in a fortnite
Crawling under gooseberry bushes, a busy hedgehog
under a rhubarb leaf, catatonic toad
I’m staying the night at an abandoned belltower
Mouldy air beats the black rain any day of the week
An old forge next door beguiles me
The village is full of life but there’s no one here
Personal space age, unable to connect
Luck is on my side though
Found a bottle stashed with tea leaves and lubricant for sore joints
sailing the sewers unattended
New walking trail craters, shoe size 432, crossing the váh river near northern crossing
It seemed that the evil power in low tatras had been driven out by the moth council
only to reappear in greater strength in the old fortresses of babia góra
Horses are building a shuttle to Io,
heard it’s warm in there this time of the year
Turns out train engineers are hard to come by
Population decline, divine align
on lunar eclipse some spawn offline
Old is gold said the sacred scarab
flaming eyes, scissorhand, hatred crab
Sleep deprivation is getting bad
Where’s my beloved nightcap?
The scent of lesser calamint tucks me into bedroll
I see a garden in dusk at a distance, a thin ice veiling a paradise
the wind carries it farther away
but I run like a hound
Hold your horses!
Liquorice roots at ready, broadleaf plantains up, pine needle bows at eye level, formic acid concoction at will
Charge!
30 thousand 100 milllion
have supper in forsaken building
Sensory horns tucked in
Dust busting
The angel’s blue, gargoyle of stone
Heart of gold, silver globe
Slanted stronghold, slippery slope
Subterrestial hallways, flooding with smoke
Whirring buzz not of us
discarded exoskeletons of cicadas
Shell shocked ladybirds and half strung webs
behemoths carpet bombing with eggs
Volcanic rumbles, sitting ducks
must not succumb to light bulbs
However
The bird a nest, the spider a web
morning dew hits the bullseye
Must gather windflowers for the mothers
tender loving care, flow and ebb
The merry bells ring to welcome the spring
gulping nectar of opulent flower
Tarantula children’s tiny choir sing
Den blomstertid nu kommer
Oh!
Break this heavy chain
that does freeze my bones around
Selfish! Vain!
Eternal bane!
that free love with bondage bound
Roses are planted where thorns grow
And on the barren heath
sing the honey bees
[log entry 8446: weary web master, trans-ili alatau mtn range]
My rusted wings creak in the wind
I haven’t found anyone to recruit in a fortnite
Crawling under gooseberry bushes, a busy hedgehog
under a rhubarb leaf, catatonic toad
I’m staying the night at an abandoned belltower
Mouldy air beats the black rain any day of the week
An old forge next door beguiles me
The village is full of life but there’s no one here
Personal space age, unable to connect
Luck is on my side though
Found a bottle stashed with tea leaves and lubricant for sore joints
sailing the sewers unattended
New walking trail craters, shoe size 432, crossing the váh river near northern crossing
It seemed that the evil power in low tatras had been driven out by the moth council
only to reappear in greater strength in the old fortresses of babia góra
Horses are building a shuttle to Io,
heard it’s warm in there this time of the year
Turns out train engineers are hard to come by
Population decline, divine align
on lunar eclipse some spawn offline
Old is gold said the sacred scarab
flaming eyes, scissorhand, hatred crab
Sleep deprivation is getting bad
Where’s my beloved nightcap?
The scent of lesser calamint tucks me into bedroll
I see a garden in dusk at a distance, a thin ice veiling a paradise
the wind carries it farther away
but I run like a hound