Asking directions,
A blind beggar
Points the way. "Ask not for a key",
Said the spider
"Be my guest". Lacking a garment,
The baby's exposed behind
Awaits the fly. The escaped convict
Pulling his steel ball,
Never looked back. Not yet dawn...
Coffee wakes me,
Climbing stairs. How guilty the spider
Wearing his bib,
Stalking his next meal.

by Louis Robert Samuels

Other poems of LOUIS ROBERT SAMUELS (2)

Comments (1)

Hmm..a little bit perplexing for me!