TARANTULA
by
Dan Lukiv



Far from Scythian
Females, in
The Amazon-
Jungle of monster-
Leaves, where
Nobody severs
The right breast
To make the bow fit,

Little-clad
Men-folk eat
Tarantulas. Held
Between two sticks
Over flames that burn off
Leg-hair, the
Salty meat sizzles
And steams.

Tang and season are as
Foreign as a Visa card
Or an army helmet. But
Tarantulas abound. Crack
Open
The crustacean shell
For the jungle-
Candy.

An entomologist on CBC
Said you cannot compare
The meat to anything--
Not to rabbit or chicken:
Tarantula is to tarantula
As bullets are to bullets
And hate is to hate.

These people love tarantulas.
They love the spicy
Meat.