In Poetry on April 5, 2012 at 5:42 pm

(For those unfamiliar with the argonaut, they are a smallish variety of octopus. Picture here)

The argonaut argued not
With the whale
About whether or not
It was safe for it
But a small octopus
To be blown out of that
The whale’s giant blowhole
And into there
The great big sky…
Eight-armed cannon fodder
Flying through the clouds
Of a two-armed heaven,
Why not?
The argonaut was not
One to argue, and surely not
With a whale craving calamari
Just as much as it craved
Second-hand flight.


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