Poetry: Spiders Dream



Moths fly in flocks
in my dream, Spiders
ride their backs
binoculars at all eyes.
Predator owns the meat,
venom at the fang
drips down the reins
scopulas grip tight.
The threat of death 
makes moths fly longer 
than they should.
Heavy burden to carry
eight legs more 
your own.
Spider’s spurs
can not keep 
the moth from 
a porch light.
So strong that pull,
positively phototactic!
Oh spider, you can 
ride a moth and 
steer it some,
but never can you 
make it NOT a moth.
You will be bucked
when you fly by night



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