in solitary stealth to spin,
to lurk in vigilance astride
its abattoir of gossamer.
Relieved of pity or regret,
perfecting predatory urge,
spider in the corner sips
the blood of hapless, tethered guests.
Spider in the cortex knows
the hunger of the carnivore,
fury of the slashing scimitar.
Through lifetimes “nasty, brutish, short,”
it weaves neuronal webs to snare
the rule of law and conscience, too,
while elsewhere spin their morbid yarn
arachnids in the mouth and fist.
George H Northrup
New Hyde Park, NY
Donated to the International Committee of the Red Cross