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Spider
Folder:
Bad poetry spider
buried in the great gargle
of the toilet’s throat I wonder
if those trees in the neighbor’s yard
adorned with translucent netted
cones and wire chambers might
be yours?
well…
I like you better homeless
some vagrant wanderer of this world
denied of romance or soul
far easier be you spat out from
the underbelly an abandoned bed
than from an egg cluster. I see
your slender arm last
from that dark chamber. How long
your arms are
how much tighter than I
you might have gripped my life
