Friday, 15 March 2013

A Million Meals

A Million Meals
“So what was it?”
“”What was it about?”
I had no idea.
I heard a noise about my left ear.
A light whirring, the noise of trapped wings.
It took a couple of attempts to locate it in my vision.
It was a large insect trapped in a fine web struggling to break.
The spider was tiny compared to it, but the large insect would never break free.
I thought “a million meals - far more than the spider could consume in its lifetime."
Then I thought, “What will the spider do now? Now it doesn’t have to concern itself with its own survival. Will it keep on building webs and catching flies or will it commit suicide for lack of purpose?”
I’d heard that spiders were industrious creatures, I thought it may spend a little time procreating, building a nicer, bigger web…
I reached down for a stick and began poking at the web, winding it round, destroying it, making sure I knocked the frantic captive to the ground.
I sure fucked up that puny web and did the spider the biggest favour he would never appreciate.
It was about a million meals.

"What's it all about?"
He said,
That small voice,
About my ear.
He said.

"My own voice?"
I asked,
"I have no idea,
I'm like everyone else."

I hear a noise,
 About my ear.
Light whirring,
Trapped wings,
Until vision locates...

Enormous insect,
Trapped in a fine web,
Or in a dirty jar,

Tiny spider,
Compared to its prey,
 But the insect
Could never,
Break free,

“One million meals”
Too much to consume – 
In a lifetime,
In a lifetime.

“What will we do now?”
I asked the arachnid,
When survival,
No longer,
Concerned us.

More jars,
More webs,
Or more flies,
Or suicide,
For lack of purpose.


Or endless pleasure?
Or some other measure?

I reach down for stick,
Knock over the jar,
And poke, poke poke,
Poke at the web,

One fucked-up web,
One smashed jar,
One puny spider,

And puny me,
One million meals,
As one big favour.

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