Spidra

Ah Nick! ah Nick! it is na fair, 
First showing us the tempting ware, 
Bright wines, and bonie lasses rare, 
To put us daft 
Syne weave, unseen, thy spider snare 
O hell's damned waft.
Epistle To Colonel De Peyster, Robert Burns
I.
Fisherman of space, skies
they make their own lines,
and catch, not with,
flies

II.
Not the dream I wanted
but still
nice....now even in dreams too many people
seem to have us on tenterhooks,
do spiders get stuck on other spiders webs?
I tried to make 8 special shoes
to run lines in a play with you as Ariadne
but our silk ran out
& you got stuck in the webs of others.

III.
Empath on the warpath
barreling through each roadblock
hellbound & down, at first,
then limbo; pulling up Lethe's pillow, blankets of webs
and half days
I'll be a corner in your dream some day,
a touch forgotten but familiar.