In every room
I've lived in,
all the dilapidated shacks
over the years that I've
stayed in, always had a
brown spider that crawled
the walls.
It had a little suitcase.
I thought to myself that it
planned on leaving, moving to
someplace better.
It never did.
It always just set up shop, and
spun a web in the corner and caught
flies, and occasionally a small moth.
On drunken sad moon nights,
I sang dirges to the trapped bugs.
They smiled and laughed, even though
they were dying.
Here is a link to a brand-new poetry reading I did. It's available on my you tube channel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cz70MOS_JX8 I have three books available on Amazon: Sleep Always Calls, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse.