At the corner of Park Avenue and the A2
(near Camping International and Master Kebab)
I see the spider and her web,
spun between window and wing mirror.
By the time I reach the junction at Star Inn,
heading for Rainham, I’m praying for a red light.
The wind is stretching her silk threads towards snapping point.
She needs a break.
On the dual carriageway, past Roko’s Gym,
I keep one eye on the web and a foot on the clutch:
see me go slowly, slowly spider.
Behind us, a Ford Cortina beeps its rage
...and I’m back at the wake
in Limerick where the grandkids chorus of
Fuck your Ford Cortina, I’ve a horse outside
goes down badly with the stiff-starched restraint
of her youngest brother’s wife.
Past Smyth’s Toys and Pets at Home,
the spider still clings on though the web is wavering.
Meanwhile, my neural networks have rewound
the Ford Cortina funeral song
and pressed play.
I'm at Amanda's weddingi
in a church on Thomas street
I'm lookin at the bridesmaid
and she's lookin back at me
I take the roundabout too quickly,
catch a side wind on the curve
and somewhere between Big Tesco
and the ragged edge of Rainham,
she lets go.
All that is left is a tattered web.
and the sky is grey and the road is grey
I pass the dental implant centre, Jack’s Fish Bar,
trees with leaves crisping up and losing colour.
and my heart
is rolled flat like tarmac
Then, as I crawl through the lights near Natwest,
I spot her: legs scrunched for safety,
under the rim of the wing mirror.
And I breathe out, ‘Sister’ and blow her a kiss
that catches in the traces of her web.
I think she’ll find it later.
Comments