A giant spider

the size of the ceiling

spun its web all over me,

hauled me up a little

then left me there

to feast on.

 

The train I was riding

lost control around a bend

and toppled down a steep cliff.

 

A dragon – yes an actual dragon –

attacked me in the parking lot

of the supermarket

with a gutful of fire

and claws like meat-hooks.

 

And then I ran into someone

I hadn’t seen since school days.

I showed him my spider bites,

the scars from the crash

and the burns and blemishes

that that mythical creature left upon me.

He told me that,

despite taking the test in his underwear,

he still got an A.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Examined Life Journal, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Leading Edge, Poetry East and Midwest Quarterly.