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Writer's pictureDarkling Thrushes

Arachnophobes' Lament

Mechanical spiders that run the show 

Have silver webs to spin beneath my skin; 

But I’m switched with my doppelgänger twin: 

The old matron at the med counter knows 

  Fanciful notions are easy to kill, 

  With a cup of water and standard pill. 

 

Give a lecture about anatomy 

Until each dream is replaced with yours; 

I work to dust the cobwebs from the doors, 

And sanitize the floors ‘til spider-free; 

  At the end of the day I say, ‘Yes, ma’am!’ 

  Then fall asleep, and wonder what I am. 

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