Unwanted Guest

An eight-legged shadow is parked in the place,

A master transformer of corners and space.

He’s clearing out flies, keeping things in good order,

But he’s making me freak—I am no brave marauder!

​We lock eyes a moment, both freezing in place,

A six-foot-tall giant, a speck in his space.

My baser instincts tell me this means a fight,

I want him evicted, and out of my sight.

​A flamethrower crossed my adrenaline-mind,

But that feels a bit much for a creature this kind.

I back through the doorway, keeping watch on the foe,

And grope through a pile for the weapon I know.

​I reach for the catcher and pull off the cap,

And test out the triggers for spider-gun zap.

I return to the chamber, preparing to brave

This half-inch invader—a six-foot-tall knave!

​My eyes swivel wildly, I switch it to “suck,”

And thrust out the nozzle—and, oh, what good luck!

He’s trapped in the cylinder, spinning around,

But should I replace the cap? Courage aground!

​If I try to cap it, he’ll land in my lap,

So I keep the engine humming right through the trap.

I run for the window, arms extended and long,

I give it a shake… wait, is the beast gone?

​Oh no, the small varmint is crouching to see,

And staring right through me: which one should flee?

I give it another hard shake, and he drops—

I slam down the window, and everything stops.

​Poor spider… I wonder, was I in the wrong?

He was only a tenant who didn’t belong.

But bedtime is ruined, my covers are dead,

With veins pumping wild with adrenaline instead