Monday, October 17, 2011

A spider story

I was bitten by a black widow spider
her web a cape of silver
trailing along behind her.

I was making muffins in the kitchen

The fire in the woodstove
had the whole room glowing orange

And still she sidled up
and nipped me hard, right on the leg.

Her wicked face turned up at me
as I yelped in pain, and then

she scurried off to find the flesh
of some other helpless victim.

Rachel Westfall
October 17, 2011

Tuesday, October 4, 2011


I knew you’d come back
slowly scuttling back
once your rage wore down
to an aching nub and your stomach
growled for belonging.

You had no place else to go.

I kept an ear on the door
and my mind sharp, ready
to pounce, hungry
to get the fight over with

so I could fold you in my arms
my pale, lonely arms
and weave my fingers tight
through your sad, sorry spider hair.

Rachel Westfall
October 4, 2011

I don't know what to tag this as. It's all part of a song and dance with Christopher; part fantasy, part something else. Maybe I need a new tag just for these interchanges.

Monday, October 3, 2011

In the black of the alley

When she hit you back
you didn’t see it coming. Your swagger

got knocked sideways, shaken down
to a stumble
that broke your sweet high.

It’s a long way down when you have
spittle running down your cheek
and your girl’s

just walked off
with the last of the weed and a curse
flung sharp over her shoulder.

Rachel Westfall
October 3, 2011

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Going neutral

I would feed you dinner, child.

A feast fit for a king.

When you stumbled in
with vomit on your sweater, eyes glazed
and a red welt
quickly rising on your cheekbone,

my heart turned upside down.

To the table, come.

Pull out a chair, sit.

Here is the linen,
the cutlery, the shuffling
pacing order of the kitchen,

steam called from a plate
freshly loaded
with such hearty delights.

Rachel Westfall
September 30, 2011