divide and conquer

Pricey tags in the musty room of hay with spices
Filled with little endless spirals of funny spiders
Maybe perhaps you could take a closer look
The magnified world of one eight legged crawler

Behold! meet Kyler. He squeaks (or thinks so) to you gleefully
Lunch is served , on the plate of his home
and he is content, for the next few hours is his world
Jingle. Sing . Dance with the coloured wings of the wind.


Then time flies, and Kyler grows lean.
Not a single catch in a few days, his mood grows mean
His thoughts wander afar. As he mends his home
Waiting for another meal to unfold.


Listening to the sound of the little creek (or so it seems to him)
as it drips and trickles down pipes of stoned grey
Gripped like fig to the pillars of which he makes his world
He tailors his web of thoughts to the drip. drip.drip.



And then. Like little insanities. He lets fly , and waits for the wind to catch him.