Spider On My Pants
By Emerson Kluge

A spider in his circumstance
Did make a web upon my pants

And waited there for meals or more
On my trousers, on the floor.

I thought “Oh no, this cannot be,
Those slacks weren’t made for him, but me!

I needed to evict this beast
(or get him off my pants at least)

But heaven had no battle planned
Between he, arachnid and I, man
And so I conjured up a plan
Where both could live upon the land

The cup upon the bathroom sink
“Yes, that will do” I quickly think

A pencil from my bedroom drawer
And I am set, I need no more

I place the cup to catch his fall.
A single poke to him is all
It takes. He bounced and then he fell
Gliding on his silk rappel

Into the cup of crystal glass
To the door I walked with him (quite fast)

And threw him out into the air,
(the place he fell, I know not where)

But I know that he could not complain
He lived, at least, (it did not rain)

He catches bugs now, moths and ants,
He was the spider on my pants.