Morning and Arachnophobia
A spinner of cobwebs sat- or stood
(can spiders sit or only stand?)-
in the left tub of the cheap stainless
kitchen sink. She stood still. A splash
of water encouraged movement and
provided proof of life. Anxiety ensued.
Each brush of cat fur or hung shirt
startled. Curiosity lead to Google
and Theridiidae whose various
species looked nothing like the feared
guest slow-moving at the bottom
of the sink. Wolf spider lead to a
match: Rabidosa rabida- no spinner
of webs but a quick and cunning
solitary hunter. Anxiety overwhelmed
regard. The tag team Permethrin and
Tetamethrin were applied. Within
a minute, neurotoxins turned her
motionless and rigid in the
characteristic pose of spider, poisoned.
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Author's Note
The cruel, genetically inherited, fear of fanged and multi-legged creatures
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Wouldn't have taken you for...a NINNY, Gary! (I keep capture jars in each room for giving such dreadful critters a free ride to the great outdoors.)
Nicely done, of course, as usual.
The only personal rejection slip I got from The Atlantic was from the late Phoebe-Lou Adams, who was then poetry editor (this was during the Watergate hearings, and these were the first poems I ever tried to write). She declared my work "clever but oblique" and singled out one about finding a spider in the shower as most promising. Today, of course, oblique is almost de rigueur. Ahead of my time.
Don't let the Freudians near this one!
True enough, Bill.
Thank you, Matt.
To be read aloud, while taking a bath ...
and this in the background:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvFuUaCe8eY
(Boris the Spider--The Who)
*
Thank you, Ray. The Who. I'd never heard it- thanks.
Thank you, Rachna.
Ha! Great piece, Gary. Drives my wife crazy that I cup sink spiders in my hands & take 'em outside. Sorry, but can't possibly let her read your poem. . . .
Thank you, Ed.
"Anxiety ensued." My thoughts on spiders are similar to some views of clowns, tiny, dark spaces, fingernails scraping over chalkboards, or a world with no cell phones. Yet, this is a good poem.
Thank you, Sam
Ooh.*
Thank you Jenny.
He, he...I love it when a wolf spider runs across the carpet...never saw my husband move so fast! (the dog is afraid of them, too).
Ha! Thank you, Kitty.