Album

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 Composer

 Ed Hooke

  Written

 April-October 2020
                          
  Recorded

 October-November 2020

Commentary
Chancing to look up at a corner crevice near the ceiling, I happened to spot a wasp caught in a spider’s web.  While wasps often devour spiders, the tables had clearly been turned in this instance.

The wasp’s frantic efforts to free itself resulted only in compounding its entanglement and increasing the certainty of its fate.  With the spider hovering patiently a safe distance away, the wasp’s buzzing gradually became less frequent, its intensity fading...

Corner crevice.
Folly found.
Web cast.  Fastened fast.
Nowhere now bound.

Fine fibres fold
to tighten their hold
as you flounder.
Weft, not time, is rewound.

Gossamer grasping glutinous thread.
Breath lessening on deathening bed.
Prey turned predator’s prison lair.
Prospects preferable any elsewhere.

Frenetic flitter.
Sky skate, scarper, skitter.
Nest to next nectar necking replay.

Dart in deranged directions.
A swarm with multiple reflections

then suddenly removed, unwelcome worlds away.

Recall larvae hatching,
insect feed dispatching.
Flights of fantasy fulfilled, full each day.
Dreamy dread-drawing drone.
Flower to flower to flower flown.
Yester-utopia irretrievably far away.

Reduced reach
each weakening wing.
What’s left when the deft loses its sting?

Whirled, woven woes.

Dice loaded, death throes,
show’s close bringing.
Tables turned for die-ning.

 Reviews

1) “I think I just stumbled upon a parallel universe, in which Stanley Unwin's love child is having a psychedelic freakout!”                    [Amy Rosa,  Planet Earth]

2) “Disconcerting and intriguing!  I like it muchly”
                  [Amaterasu Tetsunotobira,
                             Galway, Ireland]