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At a funeral

At a funeral feast given to 
heal our community, a spider
crawls up the wood slat wall without
conscious intent, spontaneously because
that’s what wild brown spiders do
I didn’t start out to love you
like a spider who can only set her

snowy, intricate, finely spun webs     
Death is the horizon—irreversible,
permanent, inevitable like a small
brained, pale-faced, prim looking
man with his faultless black suit
and snowy white tie, like a morbid
invocation at a funeral, imbued

with tragic straight-laced cries
Some humans ascended 238,900
miles to the moon for what?
Rocky without life, barren,
whitish, mawkish and some will do
it again with bracing courage and
high-minded originality

in the rib of the real where there’s
no bottom, no shame, no limits, just
the relentlessness of hard fought quests
Intellectual ferment has consequences
An artist exploits well-defined
expectations which he proceeds
to meaningfully contradict

as autonomous, unassailable and
seductive as a spider’s alluring 
weave and web or a surgeon who
should think a lot more and cut a
lot less because the loss of liberty to
a generous mind is worse than death
One woman I knew was a pusillanimous

liar—made up witches, fairies and ghosts
mean we’re never really alone—and I thought
if a quarter of her catastrophes are real
than maybe I can believe in her enough
to go up to her and ask 
“Why so hideous?”
when a minute spent in her 

company is a minute lost forever
Like some hero who baffles all
the attempts of tyranny, she cultivates,
quite effectively, a mask of royalty,
an escape from her own subjectivity
because one could so easily die in
an airplane “designed by clowns

who are, in turn, supervised by monkeys”
in a barely imaginable expanse of time
and space where we fight hard for our place
and where wonder and awe lead one thinker
after another down wrong paths of illogic
and sophistry where they’ll learn
to fake it all in illustrious old time

looking brown paint and phony cracks
“Maybe the opposite is also true”
The involuntary bodily functions that
allow us to live are hidden except, in
part, from a limited number of intricate,
burdensome, complex, medical electrical
tests as I hunger alone for her love

-January 25, 2020-