THE SPIDERS TAKE OVER

I’m a caricature

A Silhouette slipping through the door

As slim as a blade

Prague shadow puppet

Black except the face

Powder white

Whispers evaporate

A recluse

Behind a weeping curtain

I really can’t be your banquet

Your glossy lover

A path to paradise

Your way out of sadness

My own fear hoarded

In an industrial warehouse

Where the town ends in billboards

Telling us the World Will End

 

 

With a magic hat

All will be revealed

A rabbit leaps out

As children squeal

Happy times

Never to be forgotten

 

Caught on ‘ hot mic:…

In the spotlight

Our love is in jeopardy

Broken

Irreparable

As spiders abseil down

Spinning webs

Bejewelled like starlets

Embroidered bodies

Eight dynamo legs

Embalming victims

In its thread

Bailing out light

While descending

 

Herring bone clouds

Above

Looking out for the Red Moon

Crusts of cloud around it

That ‘ looks like a squirrel ‘you say

Yes it does

But that’s not real

You email me your dreams

I read them and nothing makes sense

Our imagination is a kite flying

In heavy wind

Dodging between UFOs

Can you analysis the air racing through

A tunnel?

A hook searching for a fish?

The sense is a sun dipping down

Beneath the horizon

I need a notebook to get it all down

Pages like a lepidopterist’s net catching words

As I try to make sense of the day..

Only the spiders

Trapeze unconcerned through the air

Dripping organic jewelry

And wrapping meals along the way

 

 

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Malcolm Paul

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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