You Know How When Your Phone Went Dead? Well, That Was Me on the Other End.

So last night, I had a talk with Rage. I said to Rage, “Rage, I realize that you’re not exceptionally healthy. I realize that you’re, for the most part, useless. But Rage, could you please, please, please make at least one guest appearance during the NaPoWriMo? I don’t know if I can keep posting poems that have no mention of you in them.” Much to my delight, Rage complied — even after her complaints that she’s a little rusty.

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I pushed aside the elusive butterfly

[and wingdust was left on my fingertips, and the butterfly could no longer fly, so it left us, just as this poem left, so goodbye!]

Because Love Can Strike Anyone/thing Anywhere/depth

I didn’t think it was possible to have more problems with WordPress, which seems intent upon sucking out the sweet cream of formatting from every single line of every single one of my poems, than I was having before. And then! A surprise! This new un-dashing Dashboard, which seems unwilling to allow me to post the photographs I so want to post, leaving me to HTML it. And now, on with the prologue, which shall heretofore be known as the poemlogue:

A few days ago a friend of mine made me aware of the existence of this article about the love lives of octopi, which included a quote by an octopiologist which is really good enough to be a poem in and of itself: “Each day in the water, we learned something new about octopus behavior, probably like what ornithologists must have gone through after the invention of binoculars.” The octopi, it seems, love in a way remarkably similar to us. They flirt. They hold hands. They grow jealous. They say catty things about the girls their octoboyfriends flirt with at parties. They throw half-glasses of Merlot on white, eight-sleeved octoblouses. They sit at home on octocouches with pints of Ben and Octojerry’s. They give me much-needed inspiration for this octopoem.

The Love Lives of Octopi

Will forever remain a mystery to you!!!