Come In Said the Spider To the Fly
What kind of prissy, prancy, fanciness is afoot?
I look down, afraid my wizened mouth might reveal something
I truly have nothing to divulge, but I act mysteriously coy.
She looks like a Cheshire Cat, someone whispers within my hearing.
None of them know that I have dog-ears; only my friends know.
Who?
I hear my name.
Two or three co-workers who rarely speak to me
Come into my office, under weirdly suspicious pretenses,
acting like buddies, four minutes apart.
I gloat in my spider’s chair, thinking of how I would
devour them if I was a praying mantis, wishing I was actually.
“What is new?” one asks me.
I pretend indifference. “You tell me,” I say.
I have never had this much attention.
I guess I should have my buddy, the police officer,
stop by daily, and shut my door.
She seems to have stirred
great interest.
Maybe they think I am more
than a pirate, a criminal?
I put on my poker face for
another round, loving my web today.
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