Fast Day 42 March 21, 2008 {Danta Anansazi Hates The World}

(Note: Dante Anansazi is my pet winter spider.)


Dante Anansazi Hates The Whirled

Dante Anansazi sat up one morning
and decided he would destroy the Whirled.
Blond rage danced before his eight eyes
and he grew madder impotently.
As I went to my computer, I saw him
curled trancey-parent wintry spider...
Hey, you got java?
Sure I said. Plenty joe. A cuppa tha black?
Yeah, he answered surly and bewebbed.
So I goes back to the kitchen and grab
an etui that I use fer his coffee,
like a chalice, like an urn
of faience and so p'tit it seems
and so little is Dante A.
Here's yer java, D.A., pal!
I always call him pal, like you know,
ya never know with eight eyed freaks.
Ya put any of the white in here? he ax me
so I say no,no milk; no cream.
We sip our cupl'a cuppas in a silence
and drum our hands upon the tablas
of my patellas broad and hollow.
You guys got it made, Dante sez.
Howzat, sez I. Ya got guns, lotsa guns.
Yeah, I laugh, all god's chillun got guns.
Dante A is quiet for a speckle of time
Ya got nookler guns, too. Nookler rays
that work and kill and maim and leave
lucky little orphans scattered like rice
after a wedding! Man...MAN!
Three legs up and five are down
to emphasize his point of horror:
All the beautiful red is flowing
and running to tha gutters!
Enuff with tha blood, I think, enuff!
He goes quiet and he is thinking.
So I think, hell, man, wha's this crap?
I do not need no eight leg paranoid
goin' Timmy McVeigh on my ass.
So I sez, nookler ain't so hot.
And this get his hairy antenna all atwitter
Sez who? he growls eightfold.
Sez I, I sez. You can control an M-16
but ya cant control them nooks.
Like you nooks, and...blam...all yer
webs and pupae and cocoons...
Here I make a sword-like draw
across my throat, from left to right
my right finger a sharp edged knife,
my neck a bleating calf, and I
the butcher on the limen staring.
Dante Anansazi sez nothing for a while.
Man, he sez at last, getting up to leave,
you humans are some crazy shit!