Weaver

I am so tired of myself      did you know
that orb weavers make their webs new
every evening      that’s why they always look
so fucking good      I used to wonder

how I might make something beautiful      now
I just wonder how to sleep
do you think she wakes up in a panic hurrying
to get the web done      do you think she cries

as she eats it knowing that consuming
her work is the only way
she can get moisture      do you think
she’s tired of it      of what the body needs

merely to reproduce      that she envies
the wolf spiders who run and jump
and pounce on what they want      do you
think she knows what it’s like to want

she wraps the bodies that come to her
and watches them slowly die      does she relish
it      the brief moment of power      before she
has to tear it all down and start again

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Jessica Ankeny‘s poems can be found in Missouri Review, Cincinnati Review, Cream City, and elsewhere. Originally from Albuquerque, she currently lives in Los Angeles with her family and her very cute tortie, Dolores Parton.