Calilena arizonica

Funnel-web spider/Zacatera

Glenn Weyant



My Dearest Zacatera,


We both knew all along

This relationship was a trap.

And yet here we are

Delicately balanced upon deceptive threads

Myself evermore entangled and twisted

Than I’d have imagined before.

Drawn to you like moth to fire

Hiker to trail

Comet to night sky

Etcetera and so forth and so on.

I struggle with this downward spiral

My Dearest Zacatera

This inevitable trajectory we both must follow.

When I hear you coo

“Think of my children”

Believe me when I say

“I do”

Imagining them all

Ballooning away upon soft Spring breezes

Filled with me and you.

Why I find comfort in these words

Instead of abject terror

Is beyond me

My Dearest Zacatera.

Chalk it up to dharma I suppose

And that ever slaving wheel.

Yet still my mind wonders

How things came to be like this.

Long I’ve labored under the delusion

That I was the hunter

(Not the hunted)

Buzzing about proudly upon gossamer wings

In search of fresh plant flesh

To sustain me

Not you.

That is the dharma I prefer.

And if the tables were turned

My Dearest Zacatera

And I were to crave exoskeleton hidden meat

I’m sure I would have done the same

To you as you do to me

As on the morning we first met

Chilly and damp upon a perfect blanket

Of dew spread upon Sonoran wildflowers

Yet to open.

Before we met that day

I awoke fortified and resolved

To spread my wings and fly

After a lifetime of

Crawling beneath scorched earth.

That morning we met

I dared to eat a prickly pear.

That morning we met

I wore my mandibles rolled.

That morning we met

I chose to bounce upon your trampoline

Woven with diamonds moist.

An error I would make again gladly

If ever given the choice.

In my heart of hearts

I know you are not good for me

My Dearest Zacatera

And your all consuming habits

Only hasten my demise.

But there is neither malice nor joy

In your delicate touch

Simply honest and pure intentions

As you tear me apart

And drag me down

Limb by limb by limb by limb.

In this relationship our truest selves are finally revealed

My Dearest Zacatera

For it is the end of all illusion

And who could ever deny a love such as that?


Forever yours,

Cotinis (Figgy) Texana



Glenn Weyant has called Tucson home for nearly two decades, and regularly plays The Sonoran Desert with a cello bow and implements of mass percussion. More at: