.
Blood dread spider jumps the
cracks of my table,
and the music of me
plays under his grey able
body, going on in spite
of any mind I may possess
to stop his trekking rights.
He tramples the lavender dress
she wore beautifully correct
and crumples the night (last
Halloween) when I left my candy intact
and first made out with Brooke; My cast
from 1987 that
fixed the arm Johnathan
broke on purpose and that
I, one year later, broke again.
He crawls with spindley thinking legs
over my mother, her stubborn curiosity
spreading years of comfort and working the dregs
of life down my narrow esophogus. Me:
with an eye for the nerdy
girls who read and love with
no avail; like a silent, thund'ry
tempest too afraid to show teeth
of opposition; or is it
too quick to love that
I can't quit
caring for long, until that
monster of small proportions
tickles his eight fingers
up the weight of fear and distortion
and I remember every reason why I am a lover.