Paul Barmer "Prologue"
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Yerba Buena

by Zoya Marincheva

***

Kenny the spider sets up shop

In the corner between two fences

Just above an ebullient patch

of mint stalks.

Kenny, as big as a child's hand

Is a black and yellow,

Ostentatious,

grand web weaver.

The couple of weeks he spends

Clutching the inter-fence air

Strings,

Kenny catches no major food

But, wilted and decompressed,

Finds solace in the mint

When rain batters his signature print.

Then all too soon Kenny is gone

After a night of

torrentially

Spasmatic

downpour.

Arrested in mint aroma,

The yard glistens, the weeds sprawl,

The fig tree erupts in fruit.

Could it be that the mint

Wasn't irresistible after all?

Could it be the rain?

Could have been hunger.

Certainly, unmet expectations

Spam the mood

Like yerba buena.

***

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