"Like a Song" Poetry Contest

Sam makes Circles when,
he unravels his Spider
legs down from the roof
lining a trail toward Bob’s
top salesman of the year head,
swinging toward the steering
wheel; shifting the car’s riders.
Bob punches the glass,
at digital speeds, missing
bruising Spider Sam,

but right-clicking his pre-owned Navigator in circles.
Sue passively grips. Bob’s angled-arm yokes u-turns. Sue sneaks peeks at the spider-beaded rain, through the split, water-resistant web
of glass. Sue says to Bob, “How was your bachelor party.” Bob’s front two tires make

tracks of multi-spun ropes. Bob driving admits to Sue his mate, “nearly drove
you home with me,” as he u-turns once again ensnaring the town’s space.

Spider Sam creeps into the black velvet space
of the trunk. Like damselflies it ingests baby blue circles
on litmus paper. Its sticky web implodes the bachelor’s party balloons. It drives
three pairs of spinneret’s silk from its abdomen. The spinning organs of Spider

Sam, She's spinning between constellations and dreams to make
phonebooking Bob's random calls to future girl friends; creating a horizon’s web.

Then Spider Sam Swings down to the exhaust and he e-mails Circles of web
out in a suffusing, smoke shot, weaved virus to the towns spaces,
for the passersby to choke on. Then the Cyberspace secularized web gazers make
off running and skiing on the street, on the pockets of snow circles,
leaving half-wet mounds on big half-melted hills. Thus through the Spider’s
fragmentation, all of these post-modernist skiers now had vacation driving
stories to tell of how they were bounced and surfed away by the driver,
off the road that’s famous for being dissected by city hall’s web
address. Then Bob directs fake sayings of, “promise to get you home safe.” Then Spider
Sam Circles to the car’s front. It spies the tangled cobwebbed spaces
of Sue’s mussed and matted hair. Then the spider bit Sue-man’s evil eyes form circles
toward the still driving Bob. Sue then says suddenly, “You gave me V.D. and you make
bachelor balloons like they are all right.” Sam swerves, and then regains. And, Sue makes
snivels while saying, “…I’m pregnant…See my belly,” while Sam hides his driving
shame. Sue dials her cellular phone and a mechanic’s wall-phone across town circles
from Sue’s ringing. It being walked all over by one of more spiders, which spin a web-
substitute of a chat room romance problem. “Hello,” Sue commonly calls, into the spaces
“guess what my fiancée did. Bob spun us a virus, a Spider-
Sam space that your best mechanics tools never can fix in their circles.”
Both spider and car then make a web of skid tracks, circular,
as the Spider bit woman’s belly swells……in driving circles.