Death by Spider
I.
A
freakishly large spider sits in the corner of the tent
on
the deck of the house my father built behind our house
sniffing
my glue.
Vision
of a smoky nightmare.
A
broken soldier staring up the nose of a Panzer
Toting
a machine gun without any rounds.
Sleek,
impenetrable shell of the toughest behemoth to stumble into my nightmares thus
far.
Long
steely legs covered in razor stubble
A
cluster of bulbous eyes staring at me
My
fear immortalized in their reflection
Calling
me out.
I
weave between drips of rancid goo from its fat head
Dragging
my feet in full rigor
A
dead man’s shuffle.
Scarring
pink clouds of insulation leave trails of fiberglass down my windpipe
Unable
to plead for my miserable life.
II.
If
my armor is pierced how would death find me?
Blood
sucked dry until flesh is but a brittle tarp swinging from cracked frightened
bones
Bundled
in sticky white webby tendrils stained with blood.
A
life-sized thick tuft of cotton candy perched on a femur.
Jewels
scattered beneath wistful remains
Swept
away in a river of blood
Sliding
into the cracks of Papa John’s sturdy pressure-treated deck (Posts screwed; not
nailed.).
III.
All
around me the festivities continue without a notion
Inkling
Or
a grand gesture on the part of those beneath the watchtower
Celebrating
like there’s no tomorrow,
In
danger of death by spider.
If
only I was destined to swing a hero’s broadsword with the force of a nuclear blast
Thrusting
radiantly
Cracking
open the monster
Decking
scorched
Raining
black shells that morph into bats
Green
waste with chunks of liver and bone.
A
loud bang and a deathly jolt of lightning
Splitting
the beast in two
Eyeballs
scattering
Arterial
spray heaving bits of acid and hunks of squishy innards
Thumping.
Accumulating
like snow.
Laughing
as it dies.
If
only.
IV.
Skirting
the outer perimeter with my heart in my throat
Spine
puncturing a lung spewing bile
I
drag myself as far from dismemberment as humanly possible under the circumstances
Knowing
he licks at my heals.
Shit!
A
menagerie of waxy white creatures
Eight
delicate legs stretched out and bent lightly
Ghostly
chandeliers swinging breezily from dainty glowing threads
Breathtakingly
beautiful
Hypnotic
A
morbid mobile circling over the shadows of good times.
A
blink of an eye
A
studder
Haunted
apparitions glide as elegantly as toddlers in frilly tutus to the ground
A
bumbling ballet
A
ghastly distraction.
Violently
plucking the skin bags with the most adipisere producing blubber
as
easy as you please.
A
down comforter of terror squeezing volumes of blood into a cherry red bloated
frozen face of fear
Choking
Spatting
on the deck a gooey fountain of bodily fluids in clumps
Thump
Thump
Thump.
V.
The
albino beast hauls its catch back up the inside of the tent with the strength
of a ten ton wench on crack
A
dangling corpse on its line
Amongst
the subtle dance of glistening demons
War
heroes
And
the entire drowned passenger list of the Titanic.
The
waltz with death is near
Heaving
now from fear
All
the decks’ a stage
Oh,
Horror!
Careening
through danger in a drunken stupor
Frantically
searching for a gurgle
an
awe stricken expression amongst the dead and dying.
A
friend
mouth
opened
bits
of brain in her hair
Cigarette
burning to the quick
Suspended
between vomit stained fingers and a mouth quivering in disbelief
Fear
gliding on invisible wings of ash
Extinguished
by a whisper of hope
The
calm eyes of madness.
I
scream to her, my friend, “The spider must die!”
Not
taking her eyes off the twisted circus beneath the big top of the tent
on
the deck of the house my father built behind our house,
She
whispers,
“That
would go against everything I believe in”
Well,
“Fuck.”
In
the end I die valiantly
Not
giving those fuckers the satisfaction of a single tear
Severing
a leg, maybe two with a raging battle cry before death pronounces me.
An
honorable passing
The
way I always dreamt it would be.
A
legend in my own mind.
