INVENTION

come into my parlour,
said the spider
to the fly;
never mind the cobwebs,
just come in and don’t
be shy;
find a wealth of gourmet
to suit your palate’s
choice;
let not my smile deter you
or the silence of the noise
face it —this is heaven,
leave the air’s thick fog,
and rest;

enter my conditioned net
to bask in
delicatesse
come into my parlour,
said the spider
to the fly;
I release no more than
poison of
the adder’s tongue
at least
your comfort will be
unique
and your diamond eyes
will bulge
at the sparkle of
my weave
that strangles truth
and love
come into my parlour,
said the spider
to the fly;
outside you live to life;
in here you die