Kill a squid, for manhood
You’s urging me, ‘grab it by the tentacles!’ More like, ‘grab it by the balls’. ‘Cephalopod’ you said is queer. This year we went to the creek already in February.
There is heart within this kraken but you are yelling, ‘hit its head against the goddamn rock!’ Ain’t ‘rock’ anymore but ‘goddamn rock’ – I’m disappointing you again. Goddamn this and the other, sleet on sand, gusty.
Squid’s now cold and iron gray, a bit like a bunch of dead cosmic flowers. I hear it beg softly in my mind with every wave splashing & rolling ashore:
I swing it wide and smash it against the world in one soggy thump. I can’t hear you, can’t say whether I was just in time for a ‘good job’ or I’d fallen over into ‘finally’.
Why, with you it’s always about time; ten seconds maketh a man, ten years wasted.
Daniel Aristi was born in Spain. He studied French Literature. He lives in Botswana. His work has been recently featured in Gravel and The New Madrid and is forthcoming in Berkeley Poetry Review.