there's a spider
I fancy is mapping
my own industry
the swelling pride of her abdomen
is it eggs she’s carrying
she’s got plans
a sticky, growing web
and then I murder her
when she’s peaking
with an ill-thought out plan
to make life easier
to make life go away
terrific poem
ReplyDeleteThanks Efi!
Deletedastardly
ReplyDeleteIndeed Kit!
ReplyDelete