by Marshall Begel

“This tarantula was going to die a virgin. His owner turned to Reddit to hook him up”
—Denverite

Domestic male tarantula seeks noncommittal date
for farm-raised crickets, company, and temporary mate.
We’ll scurry in the moonlight through the pinyon and mesquite
arranged in my terrarium, with plug-in rock for heat.
Together, we would burrow into real Mojave sand
my owner gathered on her trip out West to Disneyland.
If we should feel the magic in our mandibles and legs
we’ll let arachnid instincts usher fertilizing eggs.

For those who tend to eat a mate to consecrate the bond,
don’t bother posting to the web—I (likely) won’t respond.