i opened a nearly empty jar of peanut butter to swipe something to get the taste of my medication out of my mouth. instead, i found a small, white spider inside. i assumed its name was joel. i can only surmise we are now roommates. it’s good, though. i can be sure it doesn’t have a peanut allergy and certainly isn’t too concerned with creepies living in my jars.

i wonder if i may be radioactive.
if somebody could tell me
what the half-life might be
of a lamb, weakly strangled
by its own messiah complex
because i find i’m decaying rapidly
and it might be detrimental,
hazardous in unprecedented ways,
for you to stick around when i go.