Don'T Open the Bag
The hairiest knee
is waving at me,
another one shows -
and tickles my nose.
As many appear,
I reach for a beer
and watch 'em emerge,
ignoring the urge
to run for my life -
or call for my wife.
My mouth is agape
as spiders escape
and swarm over me.
Oh, help me to flee...
written 11th June for Matt's Bag of Spiders contest
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2023
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