Brainstorm your limitless fear. The one
That makes you whimper like a bouncing baby.
The pressure of legs, hair alive to cold sweat,
The verification of a Pavlovian response.
Iím confined to the porch
Cutting no ice at either door,
Snared by a motherís bullying hand,
Boiling as the foot-spinner
Squints a tilt in my eye,
Shuttling along nylon webs.
Trembling takes the shape of jelly,
Panic an essential obsession.
It might be next week
Or twenty years in the wide-angle of time.
Spiders Ėpiss away the fact
Down a spluttery bath,
Whit hear wobbly.
They watch with clockwork scowls
As they starve in upturned glasses.
Iím unfit to enter rooms alone
Where the arachnid gods wait
And bid for magic
From no one in particular.
Daydreaming Ė a flat spin
Blown from the core of a fist.
Make a wish Ė death to false scorpions.