balladeer of moons
174,135 poems read
unhinged
driven insane by a lunatic world
even by spider standards
you poised on the ledge of the bath
(were you going to jump?)
I delivered you from that
and flung you up on the windowsill
sure that you would extend spider-existence there …
so how do you end up in the cup I use
to scoop boiling shaving water out of the blocked sink?
are you trying to show me how it is done?