Once I knew a spider

wore Doc Martens on his feet,

eight hole on eight hairy legs

he wasn’t too discrete.

He rode a lengthy shadow

while he stomped around the floor

this micro “muy macho”

unabashedly cocksure

I trapped him in a glass one night

And told him at the door

“My wife she doesn’t like you

don’t you come around no more”

But spiders rarely listen

and ignoring my request

next evening he returned once more

our octo-booted guest