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deadbeatpoet

deadbeatpoet

The Figless
Jun 27, 2025
11
King Nobody

I spent many long dark January days with
King Nobody, king of nothing
and laid in Nobody's King-sized bed
weaving my fingers through his graying beard
picking out the spiders that hung there
fat black burnt out lightbulbs
strung up reminders of a holiday
that ended two years ago

I would pluck them by their plump shining abdomens
and laugh and toss them into his mouth
he would chomp and grind them
between his ivory keys
where they would stick in chunks
painting sharps and flats
onto the white noise
that never ceased to pour from
his lips

Nobody's choir sang of nihilism
of nothing matterings
in Nobody's cathedral
you would tear off
a jagged piece of yourself
when the bowl came around
and every Sunday you left
with a little less of you

One day I took a spider for my own
from the body of King Nobody
and popped it into my own mouth
chewing and tracing its venom sac with sharp flicks
of my tongue
wondering how I had yet to be bitten back
in my feedings of King Nobody
who tunelessly clanked and clattered
outraged perhaps
that I could han
dle the poison
with more grace than he
 

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