Monday, January 14, 2008

Spider With The Power Out

when the electricity snapped,
pulled like a string past its
breaking point,
along with the somewhat comical puff of smoke
there came a cloud of vision, or
an apparition with the density of a pillow,
and what had moments prior,
bathed in unflattering tungsten,
filled me with a killer's primitive compulsion,
now in darkness (like,
I thought, some pre-Edison mentor)
bade me unhinge these
toilet paperish plottings and
instead
meditate on a Creator so distant,
so distinct,
His Kolob too divine for any possible
planetarium,
that He sought expressive perfection in this
eight-legged gravel creature that I,
in my own dogged naivete,
had found merely a nuisance.

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