I’ve seen some creative and arresting titles for poetry collections, but Santa Tarantula by Jordan Pérez may have just topped them all.
Santa Tarantula. Saint Tarantula.
My one personal experience with tarantulas (seeing one in movies like Home Alone doesn’t count) was in West Texas in 1975. I was in the parking lot of an oil pumping station, surrounded by miles of, well, West Texas. A tarantula about the size of my palm scurried less than a foot in front of me. I did what any self-respecting city slicker would do. I froze. And I stifled the yell in my throat.
Despite all the myths surrounding these large, hairy spiders, their venom is not deadly. It can cause allergic reactions, but the innate fear many people have is due to the idea itself of spiders (not to mention very large ones) (and the one I encountered was very large). When I see a poetry title like Santa Tarantula, I have to wonder what’s inside.
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Some Tuesday Readings
Things Worth Remembering: The Sweet Glee of Schadenfreude – Douglas Murray at The Free Press.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge: a birthday sonnet, and a book – Malcolm Guite.
Poetry Prompt: Surprising Straw – Tweetspeak Poetry.
In Search of Roman London – Spitalfields Life.
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