My SoCal Weekend

A thousand miles ago, we three–
A spider and my wife and me–
Left Salem in a minivan
And headed south. We had a plan–
My wife and I; we hadn’t polled
The spider, who’d, in turn, not told
Us we’d be having company–
Accommodating two, not three,
So when our major chord was filled
My wife was, let’s say, less than thrilled,
But probably her shock was matched
By little Charlotte, who was snatched
Abruptly from her rumbled seat
And lowered gently to the street
A climate change away from home.
When restless spiders pine to roam
And scuttle over foreign flora
Like a polylegged Dora
Do they know that they’ll alight
Just halfway through a roundtrip flight?
Charlotte’s in La Mesa now,
Regaling flies with tales of how
She left her home in Oregon,
In which she’ll nevermore again
Set foot-foot-foot-foot-foot-foot-feet,
And hit the California street
With only fearsome fangs and moxie–
Plus a buttload of epoxy–
And now look at her! Oh, wait,
They can’t: The head’s what Charlotte ate
Right off the bat, which then ate Charlotte.
FADE OUT on a sunset scarlet
And a flying mammal’s squeak and
Tiny belch: My SoCal weekend.


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