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UNOMA AZUAH
THE BARKING SPIDER TAVERN
A pitcher of beer, a fireplace, music, women and wine
stools, men
bald
white, black and
eager
a hum from a refrigerator
a fireplace
glances fly across tables
women waving their hands for emphasis
a fireplace
a spark from the smoldering wood
a flicker of ashes
low burning candles
faces aglow
a warm evening and the rain patters on
whispers swell across the crowd
like spiders
scurrying to their webs for the night
smiles
lingering glances
low voices
the rhythm in the flame
the rise and fall, shuffles and sounds
a night
for treasures
a night
as preys, prayers, prayers answered-unanswered
beats rise and fall
rise and recede
into a scratch across the face of a drum
a thump
on the heart of a
tense drum
the rain pounds
legs are restless
flames
softens
tangos become
tangled legs
the night is a moan of sorts
two become one
the fire softens
the rain is a patter again
last lines are cast
and the spider retires
with its bounty.
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