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Her Octagon of Death

by: Ron Dailey

Building the perfect home
Between two trees
I’m as skillful as an acrobat
With no need for trapeze

Spindling weaving crafting
Every threads in place
I need no fancy plans
For my living space

For I am a living predator
And my home is a net
Ask any flying insect
And I’m sure he’ll regret

Because if he comes through
He had better think twice
Or he’ll soon become
My living sacrifice

Yeah I am born toxic
And my venom is lethal
As my trap has just caught me
A big fat beetle

Methodically mathematically
I’ll stroll up to him
And inject the venom
That will do him in

For as he lay paralysed
And none the wiser
He has met the death
Of the black widow spider !

So delicious so nutritious
Such a succulent delight
I’ll hang him up and string him there
For later on tonight

My cunningness my willingness
Extravagance and bite
It’s a wonder how my enemies
Put up not much a fight

Yes forever the arachnid
Nature’s terrorist
As I climb back up to sleep at home
And blow a good night’s kiss …..

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