I wrote this poem several years ago, at a difficult time between me and the father of my son. This was when I was living in Washington State, where wolf spiders are common. They’re big, furry, and ugly; they look a bit like thin tarantulas. However, when I was researching titles for my poem, I came across the money spider. It was perfect: Native to Great Britain (the dad is English) and we were constantly arguing over, among other things, child support.
Of course, had I known how small these spiders are, I may have continued my search. Now that I’m living in England, I’ve learned that they’re pretty small and harmless-looking.
That’s okay. The title still makes me laugh. And I’m glad to be living in a country where the spiders don’t come in size large like they do in Washington. Or size extra-large like in New Mexico, where I’ve also lived. At least, I don’t think they do…
linyphia triangularis *
your fatal mistake
was assuming I would
show pity when
we don’t do that
uncertainty breeds defensiveness
attack me when I am
cold, naked, barely awake
and I merely make the
water scald and
rinse you down the drain
* the Money Spider, native to Great Britain