The Spider Amendment

the first draft and second drafts of a poem

Photo by Chase McBride on Unsplash

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Hello, everybody,

There’s no audio today because I’ve got a dental problem that’s making it too painful to record. So here, silently, is a poem that I posted on my Instagram last week:

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Scientists have learned that spiders might dream.
If this is true then what do spiders dream of?
Do they re-spin in their sleep the web they spun
that same day? Is their narrative only about replay?

Or do their dreams reveal their aspirations?
Do spiders long to be better spiders? Do they dream
of a self that is more vicious and wiser? Their dreams 
are probably so alien that we wouldn’t understand 

what they mean. But I’m still a storyteller who wants
to decipher the dreams of spiders. I need to know 
their stories. Tell me, spider, tell me.  What gives you
joy? What angers you most? What ghosts do you grieve? 

What do you fear? Do you have trouble sleeping because 
you can’t forget all the things you rue and regret? 

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I think that poem is a pretty good draft but based on reader response and some pondering of my own, I decided that I needed to inject more energy into a rewrite. So here is the second draft. Let me know what you think.

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Scientists have learned that spiders might dream.
If this is true then what do spiders dream of?

Do they have stress dreams that claw at the mind
where they re-spin and re-spin and re-spin
and re-spin the web they spun that same day?
Do they obsess over one flaw? Is their narrative

only about replay? Or do their dreams reveal
their aspirations? Do spiders long to be better
spiders? Of course, they do. They want to be
more vicious and wiser. They want to murder

more efficiently. “But spiders don’t murder,” says
that person in the corner. “Spiders don’t possess
the intent.” Hahahahaha. Spiders drink the blood
of their prey while it’s still alive! A trapped moth

isn’t going to quibble about intent. But, wait,
if spiders dream then they must suffer nightmares, too.
What would be their worst nightmare? Being eaten
by another spider? Do they wake with a scream

just before the magazine smashes them flat? 
Do they wake gasping for breath because
they nightmared about being washed down
the bathtub drain? Most likely, a spider’s dreams

and nightmares would be too alien for us
to decipher. I’d guess a human would go mad
if they spent even a moment inside
a spider’s mind. What if spiders only dream

about hunger? No, no, no. What if spiders
only dream about starving? I conjure
a spider whose recurrent nightmare is about
a juicy moth who somehow tore

apart its death bundle and escaped the web.
How many eyes do spiders have? 
How many times did that bereft spider see
that goddamn moth fly away? O, the rage,

rage of the spider who’s lost its meal
or worse, the placid discipline—
the eight-shoulder shrug—of the spider
who rebuilds its broken web and hunts again

And again and again. Yes, scientists have learned
that spiders might dream. If that’s true

then what do they dream of? I hope they dream
of climbing to the top of the tallest skyscraper
in their city. I hope they dream of weaving
a parachute and leaping off the ledge. I want

to float with them and ask them questions.
Dear spider, what is joy? Dear spider, who is
your deity? Dear spider, do you dream about us
humans as much as we dream about you?

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