The Spider Queen

At the silent hills by Emmett’s Point

Sits a silent house far from the streets

And inside it lives a mother to eight

Who laid all her children on a winter night

Abdominous and bloated as she birthed them all

In porous skin they made their home

But suckled not on mother’s breast

With each missing person they grew and grew

And in time so did their local legend

Black furred spots moving amidst the winter snow 

Monstrous shrieks of a voiceless child

Exsanguinated persons in gutters galore 

As the queen sits fused in her necrotic den

…By Emmett’s Point, gallows hang not with rope or chain

But webbed in gossamer as the queen's domain…

16th March, 2024