Gyroscope Review 16-1 - Page 41

Cleaning House by Seth Jani
 
 When you killed the spiders
 I imagined their bodies
 Pressed against the boards
 Spilling magnitudes of dark
 Unnamed innards
 Down through the creases
 Of the porch
 To enact an eerie sacrifice
 In the sunless mass
 Of hidden stones.
 I imagined our own blood
 Squeezed out by the fists
 Of cosmic resolutions,
 And I found myself wishing
 That their large, terrifying bodies
 Still hung from the shady woodwork 
 Where they could weave down
 Towards our frightened faces,
 Inch by quiet inch. Gyroscope Review !33