As the fiery teardrop of evening
Bursts upon the horizon,
I weave my iron hammock,
All eyes glittering in
Ravenous anticipation.
I and the shadows collude darkly--
Awaiting your arrival.
Wending my way
Through fruited garden
In search of treasure
I take without pardon.
To land from aloft
On warm steamy goo
Tasting with delight
This joyous poo.
And once quite sated
I move on
To cooler climes
This garden spawned.
Glinting temptingly,
My steely dinner plate
Stretches limb
To limb.
And soon--
My bulbous stomach
Churns in delight--
It is you that will be
Stretched limb
From limb.
Buzzing about
Out of the Sun,
Feel the foreboding
Dampening my fun.
There's a vibe in the air
That makes me shiver.
Setting my hairs
all quite a-quiver.
For all the eye facets
sitting in my head,
I still miss the trap
set out dead ahead.
I can feel your approach--
A barely discernible thrumming
That agitates the threads of my
Handiwork.
My mandibles quiver
And drip
In excitement while
The winds soughs secretively
Through the evening,
Whispering you towards
My gullet.
Evasive maneuvers
They have no effect.
Tangled in this web,
"Oh, What the Heck!"
Wings rasping loudly
Trying to break free,
When suddenly I sense
What could only be...
My enemy most Arch
Evil eyes a-glitter
Racing down wires
Oh, how he skitters.
I laugh inwardly,
Hungrily,
As my supercilious stare
Condescends upon you.
Escape?
The very thought insults me.
Your frantic buzzes,
Imploringly urgent,
Evoke nothing from me.
Implausible and impossible,
Your continued survival is made
Increasingly improbable
As my constraints surround your
Thrashing wings.
How I struggle to be free
As you come quite near
Your fangs how they glitter
How plump is your rear.
Feeling the terror
deep in my being
Wings wrapped fast
In silken sheeting.
Quailing at the certainty
With which you approach.
And yet, a flicker of hope
When shadows encroach.
An agitation of the wind,
A vibration less susurrous
Than that which the night
Should betray,
Causes me to freeze in
Apprehension
As my struggling supper
Loses even the dregs of my attention,
The faint glow of the night
Is changed--
More swiftly than the
Rasping of leather wings
On a midnight silence
r the warm, mammalian
Bite of all that the
Darkness contains--
To the ubiquitous blackness
Of nonexistence.
As luck would have it
My executioner has failed
To finish me off,
And so I must regale
My frenemies
with a delightful tale
Being saved by fate
In moonlight pale.
Now, if only I were able
To free myself from
This quite dreadful mess
Wound about me ***....
Bzzt.
My consciousness
Crushed to
Confused
How?
I can't feel my
I hear mumbling
Thunder
Nature's laugh
Irony.
In collaboration with Ben Taylor, a fine young word warrior who has many fine writes on Writer's Cafe.