Duplex

By K. Shawn Edgar

High window in the bathroom

I see a spider living there

Above our shower and tub

Its corner web framed by the windowsill

Each silky line, milky white, collecting sunbeams

And storing moisture from the shower head’s waterfall

In the bedroom, Sebastian is sleeping in a rectangle of light

It’s his early afternoon spot on the bed

And he tucks his nose under a warm polydactyl paw

And his snores sound like a tiny muted sonar

His breath is linked with my heartbeat

For he was there when I was not complete

From the couch I watch for the good people

But don’t see them on the TV show

Mr. Pants is camping on the dryer in the sleeping bag

Twitching legs and whiskers show, he’s leaping in the grass

Trying hard to bite a squirrel’s ass

Even deep in the aether of dreams his large talons are out

The music plays and Jack Johnson sings the positive words

I dance a crazy dance on our kitchen floor

Bare-toed feet, stick-leg pants, my hood pulled low

Hands up, loosely swaying, eyes down, nearly closed

My bone-toe shuffle mixes banana pancakes over the linoleum

As my mind memorizes each conspicuous bundle of swirling dust