when the moon shows its ugly face
i know just who i am;
a lychanthrope of a man.

i can not run.
if i run
i drown in the pool
of my own shadow.

beggars come from hell
to befriend me.
to **** the marrow from my shell.

the cave-dwelling spider
is my master.
it gains its grip
on the insect that is
my soul.

what a ***** little insect.