Abdominal Tales

At my parents’

you don’t even get in the gate

(because there isn’t one)

before they swoop,

more Bat than Spider,

coming down as they do

from out of nowhere,

a shocked-skin-wisp at head height,

the gap in the conifers

booby trapped with trip wires

so provisional & finite

in the motion sensor

you should be ashamed of yourself,

the fuss you make

about the thoughts you have –

as if there’s ever hatched

a legion from an ear!

And by you

I mean I.                                                                                              

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.