5 MARCH 1965, Page 21

Spiderman

Surrounded, bound by Many filaments To fellow-men, to Other places, things— I try to see. I Touch, taste, spider-like, These trembling threads. Not flies but feelings Feed me. What buzzes, Struggles in the web? Is it full of juice And blood? I run out Among my ladders; Leave dead-centre, to Seek the nourishing.

EDWARD LUCIE-SMITH