Spiders (Notevember 2023, #2)

A gentleman crawled up my arm, where he sat
Eight-legged, four-eyed, he lifted his hat
And then introduced himself “John Webb, Esquire”
Said: “Pardon me, madam, but might I enquire
If you have quite finished, that is, with your lunch?
It’s just that I saw it, and I had a hunch –
And do interrupt me if I’m being rude! –
That bagel you bought, surely, does not include
The bluebottle perched upon yonder pastrami –
Or roastbeef? Or is it a piece of salami?
Forgive me, I fear that I lack expertise
On meat products and, for that matter, on cheese
But I’m not mistaken, ma’am, in my assumption:
The fly is not part of your half-eaten luncheon?
To think such a specimen might go to waste!
Instead I suggest, ma’am, that I have a taste
Or, better yet, let me devour it entire
For surely as my name is John Webb, Esquire
You would have my gratitude, which might seem small
But better have that than have nothing at all!
And better than better, I say, is the best:
I’d rid you, for free, of an unwanted pest
While I’d get what youngsters like you might call “scoff”
No fuss and no muss and then I would buzz off
And so we might snuff out two birds with one stone
For I would leave sated – and you, left alone
If you should object, now’s the moment to say
Or else give me leave to advance on my prey
And let me add, madam, it brings me delight
You’ve not tried to brush me off, or taken fright
You aren’t the type who just sits there and gawks…

I cut him off: “Fuck me, a spider who talks!”