SPOOKING THE BIG-BELLIED BEAST

Afraid. . .
a dread. . .

I wake. . .

I see a creature on the wall,
far too near
for my comfort,

I lever up,
stare a moment from my bed,
but fear of further worrying
and losing sight of it,
makes me crave
to move ahead,
defend against this threat,
with whatever may be done for it,

lest I later
be surprised,
and maybe by biting
even compromised,
though I’d have missed
the reappearance
with my eyes
of its wicked quick
and furtive scurrying. . .

Out of my bed-stare rapture,
then,
I snap,

get what I need
to corner that big-bellied beast,
and then to seize and capture,
with my own sly trap. . .

step out of doors,
walk some good long paces forth,
release it, fling it
back to nature,
so it
and I
can breathe more easily
and free,

at least that would be the case for me,
until such time I learn
on eight bent legs it has crept
sneakily right back to me. . .

How many times
must I perform
this old encore?

Either I grow fearsome,
more wicked
than before,
and settle the score,

or else the answer, I can’t pick it,
and you and me
will just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile,
since now the place
is clearly fully mine,
I’ll take the chance
now to reclaim
and really rearrange
the space,

renewed so
then,
that in the improbable event
the dreaded creepy crawler thing
should ever call
or come back in,
he would no longer feel at home,
and, his logical reaction

would be to leave,
perhaps without a trace,
never again
to come and show his face.

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This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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