If I Can Come Back

I wish I was an octopus,
And didn't have a spine.
The things look good on skeletons,
But I am sick of mine.
It aches when I am hard at work.
It aches when I am done.
It aches when it is raining,
And when I am in the sun.
I'm okay with the hands I have,
But, suckered arms would do.
They'd hold the things that fingers
Reach to grasp, but then let through,
And shapelessness is advantageous.
I am sure that's so.
There aren't too many places
Where an octopus can't go,
So let me die, and then return
A blob beneath the sea
With skin which looks like what I'm on
So no one bothers me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 66 times
Written on 2016-07-15 at 18:30

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