Writers’ Weir: Outhouse Spider

Published 8:01 am Wednesday, May 18, 2016

You live with a part of me

I cannot keep company with.

Among snorts, sprays and smells,

after disrobing and unloading,

I leave you each morning

with yesterday’s remnants

in the weather-beaten shanty.

What do my guests say about their guide

hairy webmaster, capturer, torturer

of crane fly and no-see-um?

Do they say my cooking isn’t worthy

of this chat room’s cache?

You, the pharaoh’s curse, scurry across

faded newspaper and frighten

the fairer sex in broad daylight.

A bitten bun, a stung cheek,

your stingy payback for free room and board?

Might you rather spend time

on a #14 short shank

instead of caretaking the john house?

At night, stars burning overhead,

you spin a carousel in the sheltered corner,

negotiate flight patterns

of winged wonders,

live your life in wait.

For the faint of heart

a vigil across the dark path

to the throne is halted short.

With only night vision, a noise

from the black forest turns them back.

You’re left only with fading footsteps

and a muffled fart.

• “Outhouse Spider” is the title poem in Jack Campbell’s newest collection of poems, available in Southeast bookstores. Campbell lives in Excursion Inlet.