OCTOPUS SUICIDE NOTE
Two arms, two legs, how could they cope?
No wonder they all thrilled
to watch my eight long tentacles
do any trick I willed.
Under-legged and under-armed,
longingly they'd watch
the firm and giant tentacles
arrayed around my crotch
balance balls or show their might
through tricks I did for food.
I thought that it was permanent,
not some brief interlude.
But then one day the tent came down.
No one watched my tricks.
I felt like Jesus placed upon
a double crucifix,
every tentacle quite nailed
to form an octagon.
If heaven boasts of circuses,
I'm glad I'm moving on.
[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited April 18, 2002).]
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