An entomologist with arachnophobia. |
Creeping, crawling, seeker at night, receiver of the jeers, inducer of one’s basic fright, alluring to the fears... Creepy Crawlspace, Fort Worth’s fair-haired entomologist of note, began his poem about a spider, hoping against all hope his arachnophobia was impermanent--that if he wrote an ode say, or some such light verse honoring the spider, this newfound fear would be no more, and he could face the world again. Imagine me, Creepy thought, afraid of that which crawls along and lurks in places dark and dank, yet with such tenacity can out-design the lot of us, silken threads, so thin yet strong, setting such a trap for the gnat, housefly, even bumble bee! His mind spinning, Creepy continued with another refrain: Although to some your sight unnerves, at your designs I cheer; acknowledgement your skill deserves, arachnid engineer! He had no more finished that last line when there, down on the rug, meandering at a pace reserved for the most abundant of nature’s denizens, was a brown beetle, or a stink bug as is the colloquial term. Yet Creepy’s calm was extant: Crawlspace even asked, in humdrum voice, “What are you doing here?” Then, rushing off as if backlit, he grabbed a bathroom tissue, and with steadiness of hand, and totally bereft of fear, cradled stink to the outdoors since all living was an issue. How ridiculous I am, Creepy thought with greater steel, I need to take this asinine fear and place it on the shelf! A spider builds, a spider lives, yet it is subject to my heel. I know there is not a thing to fear except the fear itself! O with such entrapping strings, how could it be that she traps me? I shall not let fear’s rings enclose--let the stink beetle serve! I am a proud scientist, a bug man of alacrity, so I will pen a few more lines until I regain my nerve. Success was Creepy at his keyboard, a fear he’d overcome; the optimist, the glass half full, reason as a rule of thumb: And if your web is taken down a new one may be wider, built with substance only found within the skillful spider. 40 Lines Writer’s Cramp December 1, 2013 |