bella, the spider

i knew a spider called him
bella the spider lived in
the spaces of the walls and came out
nightly, like clockwork when he
knew we were away and
across the room trying to
sleep and not trying to
kill bugs

but there was no kleenex or
pesticide or rat-trap or
vacuum or natural solution
or glass bottle that could have
harmed him and no squeal, dating
or dated or no gross-out
factored his longevity
or Bella's demise

because once you name something and
once you know the story of
how he lost his first leg to
the garburator and how
he lost his second in
a competing spider web
and after Bella tucks you in
from the corner of the room

you don't mind the spider webs
in your hair
and you don't mind the egg sacks
in your coffee
and you mind where your walking
when your walking on the ceiling
and you mind how your talking
when your talking in your sleep

and you know where to look
and where not to look
when your looking
for a thing to look at.