Ode to the spider who lives in my Gas Meter Box

Dear Mr. wriggles, though that’s probably not your name
But in the absence of your introduction and your presumptuous claim
To use my meter box as your humble abode,
And the fact that now we share the same post code
I feel obliged to call you a name that seems fitting
For a liberty taking, arthropod who I just found sitting
Upon my gas meter, that has been installed for my use
And not for an arachnid to spin silks and abuse.
At the very least, I think, a knock at my door
With a how do you do, you know your box on the floor?
Would you mind if I stay, if you could permit
A spider to live by your meter for a bit?
No, instead you just move in and spread all your eggs
And I find you just staring and tapping your legs.
I honestly think that you lower the tone
With your murky and dirty and damp ridden home
Perhaps I could ask for something in return,
Though I’m not sure of your ability to learn
To read my meter, is within your power
You don’t need to know the kilowatts per hour
Just give me the eight digits, that’s one for each eye
and push them under my door when you scuttle on by.
I feel this is a reasonable and fair transaction
If you do not agree, then I’ll be forced to take action
And though I’m normally adverse to such friction
I’ll take you to court and serve you eviction
And you can move on, you con, you cheater
And I’ll rent to a mouse who can read my meter.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *