two tentacles forward
and six at the back
ain't going nowhere
till' the paperwork's tacked

transferring paper
transferring words
assimilating poets
'till they're nothing but blurbs

are my words worth more
than the lonely penguin father's?

wine, wine, wine
roast, oh roast!
y'all were right
the crumble was delicious.

i wonder
if i lie outside in the sun
would i dry out?
surely that's what i
have eight arms for
situations like these
but help's no good
if you can't help yourself.

should an octopus drink coffee?
should an octopus drink tea?
some days i feel like I have
one heart instead of three
careful of my autotomising limbs.

characterized by my eight arms
i think i really should be combing
my invertebrate head on a coral reef
and remember:
no surgery without anesthesia
i'm an experimental animal