The confused spider
Spun a web so inane,
Flies died happily
Just to be inside her.
She never ate them.
An insect gallery
Webbed without purpose,
Aesthetically static.
The starving artist
Saw the web for its pain.
Dance of a criminal,
Gunmetal breakfast.
Crimson masterpiece
Caught in a crime scene.
It was ruled a suicide;
Never blamed the spider.
1 comment:
hey an old friend! always liked this poem. kyle, i've never seen you more prolific and fun to read -- keep going!
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