The mindshark must keep thinking or it will drown,
dragged deeper every minute by its own weight,
confused between what is up and who is down;
harshly reminded there is no deciding one’s own fate.
The sternwhale has its conduct to be considered,
one must remember what the neighbors just might think;
such a tawdry swim might still be reconfigured,
but this ship has no modesty will still probably sink.
The logic frog can live on land, or many different kinds of water,
and jump from Reason’s lily pad to some moss-covered artifact.
How solid the surface he jumps to never seems to matter.
when he is gone where he has been cannot be tracked.
Then there is the ambitious octopus in tailored suit,
who can clap his hands in between his picking of your pocket.
A dangerous and deadly foe, misdiagnosed as merely cute;
his gate was open till over-reaching came and locked it.
The schools of poet fish still too often swarm in unison,
talent pools behind the waterfall they dream about.
They bank and turn in unison, regularly seem to think as one;
no one reads, no one listens, everyone seems to shout.