Spiders

When I’m wasting time, like now

it helps me to look at them

this one just hangs there, upside

down, below the lamp

a daddy-long legs

patient as a galaxy, as if

it has eternity

to wait for its prey. Sometimes, though

they wait so long they die

hanging in their own web.

Glancing over, idly pissing,

(another form of waiting)

I see through them

and realize

they’re gone, their legs folded

into miniature umbrellas

or tiny daisies closed

for the evening— a little hideous

how they silently

evaporate, in the corner of the bathroom

window, where they took all

their chances.

The window sill is

the Altar of What Has Fallen,

littered with specs of spider crap, a wing

floating a rainbow, a bent thread a leg,

a nano knot in it

that’s a marvelous knee,

discarded in the serene dust—

of a deserted, indoor battlefield—

an L A strip mall

after The War of the Worlds.

She wipes it off. There!

Spic & Span. It’s easy to get up

and get going again. We’ve done it

lots of times. It’s fun! Why have I been

wasting so much time?

But who can keep up

with spiders?

Once I cleared everything out of my room

washed it down and painted it.

Within hours a spider appeared in the corner

of the ceiling

the paint wasn’t even dry.

Where do they come from? Out of the air?

I read that no matter where you are

you’re within twelve feet of a spider.

They’re in your backpack. The garage.

But if you look

carefully into the fierce face

of one of those little jumping ones

with four eyes, the beautiful orange

black and white face—

beware. It sees you

with such fearless intelligence and cunning

you realize it

could take you

like in high school

when you might be absent-mindedly caught

staring at some kid, not even seeing him,

a tough kid, and suddenly he says,

“What’re you looking at.”

You snap out of it

look away

slightly bewildered, even embarrassed, and wondering

What were you looking at?

I just went over my room with the swifter,

shook a few outside. I missed a couple.

But even though they’re nowhere to be seen

they’re still here.  I’m avoiding things

that need to be taken care of

but can’t handle by myself. I'm brought

back to what's at hand.

Spiders avoid nothing. They’re always

ready. But as the wisdom

in the children’s game Hide & Seek warned us

what’s coming is coming

ready or not.

It just amuses me to think

If I died sitting in this chair

they’d use my body

for tie-down points.

It’s good to waste time like this.

It’s very, very human.

Being human’s a refuge

for awhile. 

As for spiders

they’re not only ready

but they'll survive

what’s coming.