Unadulterated envy. That’s why divers long to spear me, slice and
dice and fry me. Because they don’t have as many arms as I do,
and can’t take ten babes by the hand for a walk along the strand.
Because they don’t have suckers to hold on to them, and the babes
always manage to slip away. Because they don’t have jets, and no
matter how hard they break wind, they can’t scoot through the sea.
Not with the greatest of squidly ease. Because they can’t spit ink at
their enemies. Sure, a tidal wave may someday leave me high and
dry in the foothills of Fuji, but what an incredible thrill the ride’ll be!
Joe Smith poet
Honoria Starbuck illustration