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.