an online literary magazine for extra pungent poetry and prose

Brian Austin

Eight Legs Ain’t Enough

That’s why I stopped killing spiders in my twenties
Understanding my protector, my dream
The power lines in the northwest quadrant
Of this city are fused
To my ancestors’ crease, giving life
Like a packet of brown sugar
At the C&O Diner in the desert
Dance with me, like tarantulas
And celebrate the boats that brought us home
Not guided by man, but by water
And the moon, by the insects that power
This planet when no one’s watching
Break down, listen: the locusts bringing back whatever
They could find in the fields
I want to be the cellar spider that drowned
Knowing what was possible
And still giving up


Brian Austin is a poet and alchemist living in a town of 500 people in rural Illinois. He roasts coffee by hand in his barn and drinks tea made from the weeds growing in his yard. Themes of grief, addiction, and isolation are present in his work. His poems have previously been published by The Horizon Magazine, Bruiser, and Backroom Poetry.