cephalopod mollusc of the order octopoda

you make me want to hide against the surface of the sea,
spring tentacles into fins, polka dots into stripes and back again.
i can become fish, nearly foul, rock, stone, human heart.
two-legged minnow, sea snake, coral reef. we’ll skip the flounder.

too obvious. i’m not spineless. i harbor remnants of
bones in there. somewhere. there is enough ink for both
of us to paint our four eyes. they were out of black.
it’s called diver’s blood after shark bite. here.

give me your arms. we’ll lay strings of eggs from the ceiling like lights,
leave them there to fend for themselves. i refuse to ingest my own
body parts for sustenance. not for love either. just look away for a second.
i’ll be right there.




Image: Octopus drawn on me and photographed by Colin James. 
Words written with lovely music, crunchy chips, iced mocha.
Time Taken 6 minutes writing.
Brain on the new novel, candlelight, snow.

This entry was published on May 6, 2012 at 4:00 pm and is filed under Colin James, May, Poems, Seattle. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: