but I counted it octopodally:
I was an eight-armed creature walking on water, juggling
many odd balls, some of them flaming
with excitement, even as
I battled an eight-armed creature equipped
with powerful suckers that threatened to drag me
too deep in an ocean of constant motion
clouded with turquoise ink, bad weather and
many more than one grain of sand.
In October my long arms finally reached
the rubbery endtips of my ability to Do Things.
Surfacing, now I can breathe the word
Octover.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for joining in the wild rumpus!