How to Kill Spiders

Who wants to kill the spider in my room?
Come out of your closet,
you small buffoon.
Smell the death of my perfume.

I shoot a stare to a new male.

No response.
More losers to web,
floating to cribs.

I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.
You eight-legged wait up here,
while I go bounce.

And the cartoons on TV
juggle left and right,
for you to come out of thin air.

Please just kill it,
it wouldn’t fight.

The spider breeds.
They all scrunch in tight
to the corner of my ceiling.

The wind blows throughout,
a calling
for an army of doubt.

There tilts my mouth,
but still no temptation to stay,
my eyes go south.

The next day,
I go back to my room,
armed with hairspray.

The web is a thread,
the spider a skeleton.

Here I am,
saved by the ghost of Spider-Man.


Artwork © Cesar Valtierra


Hanna Pachman is an avid writer of both poetry and screenplays. Originally from Connecticut, she now resides in California, where she observes the imbalance of fluff. Two of her other poems, “Hungry for the Beat” and “Authority Charges” have been published in Aberration Labyrinth.

Cesar Valtierra is a graphic designer from El Paso, TX and the creator of the webcomic, Balazo.