Sarah Little: Three Poems

the spider under my desk

the spider makes itself
at home in the 
corner
below my desk.

it weaves its fine
gossamer
cobweb and stays
below ground.

when i’m sitting there
we have an uneasy
peace. i tell it that
it may not move
until i do.
it may work quietly
but must be still and silent
where i am concerned.

sometimes
i duck below the desk,
crane my neck awkwardly.
it sees me
and quickly retreats.

sometimes
i work worse with the 
spider there. sometimes 
its presence drives me to
work better.

i had a talisman once.
it used to sit on the desk
until i got worried 
about knocking it off and breaking it.
in the end
i strung a chain through it
and hung it from the drawer handle.

soon, the cobwebs were 
wrapped around it.
i was unable to retrieve it.

one day i got wirecutters
and broke the chain,
toppling my talisman to the ground.

it came to rest on the hard floor
by my foot and
when i inspected it,
i found it intact.

devotion

the spider has gone.
all that is left of its
presence
is a layer of cobweb.
so far i haven’t had the heart 
to sweep it away.

instead,
you are here.
you are distraction and
inspiration in equal
measure.

(will i compare you to
the spider,
who drew in unsuspecting others
when they least expected it – 
like you do me?)

you are always here.
i have not managed 
to elude you for longer than
a few 
weeks.

sometimes you leave – 
just for a while. you always
manage to come back
stronger than ever.

(i never asked you to 
ensnare me)

deletion

you’ve left.
i managed to make you
give up on me.

you’re gone and my work is
easier to do now, without
you to pull me off-track.

(everyone leaves in the end)

i have been working through
tasks on the desk and found your old
notes: you have removed
the spider. chased it away with 
squares of perfumed silk.

you did it for me
and i never asked you to.
perhaps you never knew as much
as you thought you did.

more notes: you have outstayed 
your purpose. you have taken away 
my mental edge and 
expect me to be grateful.

i am back at the desk,
setting up a new 
computer.
there is an email inbox 
waiting and i still have to
close it down.

the only reason I haven’t
closed it yet is
so i can keep deleting 
your messages.

(it’s nothing to do with
wanting to see what you
have to say)

and your every message finishes 
with “call me”
and i never press the green
call icon.

i haven’t called because i
don’t want you to
come home.

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