At Woods Edge Hiding Out
For five nights now our hero
has been sleepless on account
of the poison ivy and the steroids
used to get it gone. He hunts
spiders that hide behind
portraits of his mother and the long-
lost dog. A doctor once told him
that fangs are full of bacteria.
The poison’s not the point.
Under the skin motes of half-eaten
insect carcasses collect, calling up
bad blood and fester. The white
walls of our hero’s house are stippled
and smeared where books, boots
made a death mask with eight legs.