in my Corridors

Had a friend over last something or other. He complained about the spiders. I have his laptop. Had a techie friend of mine put Mint on it.

This is the first text file on the visitors new operating system. I suppose I’ll file it under poems.

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Please excuse the spiders in my corridors

I keep them to catch real flies

Cause I can’t catch my thoughts

All the little lies

Crawl round my head floor

Crowded million mildewed feet

Keep me from the door

Yea and I’d be dead from the insects

If I didn’t have spiders

Like regrets

To eat up all the scattered scurryings

Of the faint and flitting things with translucent wings

Please excuse the spiders in my corridors

You may think it sick

But see how clean my drawers

Its my favorite trick

With full eight legged precision

We weave our checkered tablecloth

This is the decision

Here there is no sloth

Though it may appear so lazy

There is no madness in the method

I’m not crazy

I clean with silk

These halls are fit for God

Are you of higher ilk?

Please excuse the spiders in my corridors

I was in India

For a summer or maybe more

Then Came the spinners

From mills in Lydia

Passed beneath my door

Now I admit some guests

One of whom is you

But such requests

If I were to speak true

I can’t fulfill

If you feel ill

All I can offer is pray…

Please excuse the spiders in my corridors