legs

I waited for the spider to get close to the bed
I killed him with a Vanity Fair-the one with Barack on the cover
Then I went downstairs, for what my legs hoped was the last time tonight,
and saw another one, one inch legs, creeping behind the tv
bashed that one with a New Yorker--(perhaps he was the more literate arachnid)
tried to push down the panic of being swarmed by their orphaned children in the night
thought fleetingly of pulling out all of the furniture from the walls to inspect, spray, and pillage whatever little village they are trying to set up in my home
but flesh said "nay"
the powerlessness and anger swept through me
leaving me panting on the stairs