Thursday, January 17, 2019


The Savage Spiders
By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

In the hills of Mars
spacemen are held hostage
by savage spiders
in formidable webs of death.

Birds do not fly here.
Night is cumbersome. To
survive spacemen must
be still as the stone when

the hour of the feast arrives.
The body must not move.
The savage spiders go for
the voice box first. Spacemen

who plead for life will not live.
The end is certain.
The thirst of the savage spider
is eternal, boundless, infinite.

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Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems and prose have appeared in Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Yellow Mama Magazine.

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