a silken web
clings across
the doorway
a fat black
bundle of
mosquitomurder
waits ever so
patiently for
the telltale
vibrations of
asquirmingsnack
asananorexicmoon
slices the dark

a fool lays
still in the same
lunar slasher night
tugging the threads
ofthelonglanguishing
indescribablenextnovel
where the end seems
to be so clear while
theroadisevershifting
and the act of attempting
to simplify complexity
is simply quite vexing
and he has to remember
to let it breathe

growing up
the church bells sounded
every half an hour
several in fact
ringing out a
clanging cacophony
of brash brass
i took for granted
only to be struck
by homesick pangs
as they rang in longview

i bet the spiders
are morbidly obese
on their webs waving
in the church bellflowers
desensitized by the tolling
summoning a sonic tsunami
in regular recitation
yet overstuffed by
swarms of penitent prey

perhaps god is a spider
sitting in the center
of a most magnificent web
billions of subsonic prayers
filtered out like the
ringing of church bells
seeing so clearly the end
yet caught up in the myriad
of ancillary tales leading
to dreamshatter armageddons