The Spider Sipping Flavored Yoghurt


There must have been a time when cats were real men, and hunted
All mice with fork, clenched jaws and scarlet thunder
Beyond every domestic nook and hole, running
Them to the groveling penury of old church,

Or so the spider thinks as she sips DOOM-odorless flavored
Yoghurt from the depths of his fresh mosquito catch.
Yes? No? Really? Ow,
It probably then is that compound cataracts afflict her eyes,

Or her gated, apartment web is so lowly architected that
Fad cancer gives her, at her perched dining table, visions of
Sissy cats acornered,

Wailing to the wind for salvation from a mere sniffly rat. Yet, alas,
The spider needs no detox or India’s chemotherapy because this is clear
And real of to-day: yesterday’s panya are laying claim to private equity
Off the backsides of nunting millennial cats.

The spider pulls the last droplet of mosquito yoghurt up her straw:
For yesterday’s pussies! To today’s rats! Cheers!
And the spat dead mosquito wings take final flight, by gravity
To repose below her web at the ants’ Undertaker Museum of Lost Realities’.

© Oluoch-Madiang’, 2016.

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One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Brendah Bristarriah on August 31, 2016 at 13:23

    I enjoyed reading this niice work

    Reply

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