The Beast At Your Side

There was a time when I treasured being alone
vaguely dreamed of giving birth in a den to children
someday. I could have stayed hidden in that den forever
living off of rotting carrion and cold ramen.

I treasured my own scent before I met you
I treasured my space and the few things that were mine
had my own dreams that seemed very bright and important
thought I was strong.

Before I met you, I was pure beast, a sleeked-furred creature
hiding in the dark, teeth sharp and bared
a completely different creature than what lies in your bed
waiting for you to lumber in at night
to claim me as yours.

The Spider in the Windowsill

It’s tempting to just squish it outright but you should first
pull off a leg, then another. First an arachnid
then an arthropod then a quadruped then a biped. Does
the level of intelligence and/sophistication increase or decrease
with each removed limb? How about if you
put a hat on the tiny, flailing insect,
give it a cane, make it dance on its two remaining legs
as it fumbles its way to death?

What happens if you remove all the legs
from one side, but leave the other intact?
does it run around and around
in a circle like a cartoon character,
a teeny tiny motorcar? Now what happens
when you give it a hat, a cane,
from the first exercise?