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Throughout this week, in the run up to Marvel’s Spider-Man, which releases this Friday, we will be bringing you a series of poems, all different forms. Each has been plucked from a different author, and is being spun into a one-week anthology we're calling Arachnidelights (Poems of a Spider-Man).
Our first author, Ian Sect, is reading classics and zoology at Cambridge. His thesis, entitled ‘Eight Ways Spiders Shaped Roman Philosophy,’ has gained him widespread academic acclaim. Sect writes poems in his spare time, and the following poem, entitled Swinging Dreams, is taken from his amateur collection, Sticky Thrills.
***
I woke in fits of swinging through the night,
I drag my feet to work and feel spaced out;
It’s strange, you know, I used to dream of flight.
The seventh wrapped in blue and red delight
It’s for the players, climbing up the spout
I woke in fits of swinging through the night.
Will pizza and balloons still be in sight?
what's all that police scanner stuff about?
It's strange, you know, I used to dream of flight.
Down came the rain and washed us all with fright
I heard compression caused a puddle drought
I woke in fits of swinging through the night.
It borrows the bat’s knack for a fistfight,
I’ve always craved a more elastic bout.
It's strange, you know, I used to dream of flight.
I wonder, will it scale that sequel’s height?
It has to strive much harder to stand out
I woke in fits of swinging through the night,
It's strange, you know, I used to dream of flight.
***
