Each night, peeking under my pillow

Waiting for the eight-legged monster

To strike.

Each day, opening the front door

Waiting for the furry arachnid

To attack.

Every visit to the zoo, lurking by the terrarium

Waiting for the fanged creature

To escape.

He didn’t strike, or

Attack, or

Escape.

He just sat there

On his furry ass

Eating bugs.