Wallowing deep
Down in its own
Dark juice, the octopus is
Clearly rejoicing; surely now
That danger’s over, some long
Overdue indulgence is
No great sin.
.
You of the spineless
Backbone wielding
Wishy-washy hands,
On the murky bottom
Of a milieu turning inky
In the sand, there’s a lesson
To be learnt here—
.
Catch it if you can.
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