Two Poems by Teisha Dawn Twomey

Wan­derun­lust

I want to believe in truck stop diners
blue­ber­ry pan­cakes, vaca­tion villages

on the way to nev­er ever again land.
By morn­ing, I’d think any place

could be home. I con­tin­ue to carry
old key chains with me.

They fail to unlock any doors
but open as many cold-ones

as I need. So, I call my old­er brother.
He is always on vaca­tion and I ruin

his good time. He has pre­dictable advice
on the oth­er line, I should real­ly take

care. Tonight I’m smashed-mouthed
and stormy. Some­times I’m like that.

grand illu­sion destroyed. I want that
tonight. To be unlike me, soft-spoken

and sweet. A child un-
will­ing to take off her boots

back­pack off, laces
laced too tight.

A Female Redback

Spi­der looms her tough untidy web
anoth­er male offers up his abdomen

som­er­sault­ing towards her mouthparts
in exchange for a moment or two close

to her. This vul­ner­a­ble pos­ture only elicits
a preda­to­ry response. The small­er he is

the more force­ful he’ll be cannibalized.
This first and last instinc­tu­al barter

ben­e­fi­cial to the species mutually.
He doesn’t con­sid­er the pros and cons.

He’s dri­ven towards her snare, the dance
in his loins, a nev­er-end­ing con­go of brothers

to come after and before lined up
at her door. She tidies her untidy trap

nev­er waits too long. Same old song
on the radio and a young woman practices

tying anoth­er slip­knot behind a locked door.
The female Red­back spi­der has it pret­ty good.

Not just a girl in this coun­try-bump­kin town.
has pow­er­ful limbs, a set of fangs, no step-daddy

too young for the moth­er but not for the daughter.
The female Red­back Spi­der bears a bright blaze

on its abdomen. It warns: don’t draw too close
you’re sure to lose a hand. That’s just how it is

plain as day, seems fair and square. Sure
as shit, her ven­om could kill a full-grown man.