The common octopus is a marvel
eight tentacles which can be categorized
as two legs and six arms
with a battery of super-powers:
the toothed tongue for sawing through shells,
the ability to change color and texture
to blend in with surfaces,
the ink spray to obfuscate its escape
while jetting away at forty kilometers an hour,
and smart enough to dance
with its reflection in a mirror.
It is an amazing creature
the smartest invertebrate
and one of this planet’s wonders
and yet it lives
only twelve to eighteen months
before dying.
And here I sit
eating stale chips
and reading yesterday’s paper.
I’ll probably get eighty years.
Doesn’t seem fair, somehow.
* * *
School
One thing that made it possible
for me to get up every morning
and drag myself through the mixture
of tedium and drudgery,
the mild threat of violence or humiliation
that bullies and social hierarchy presented
was the possibility of the random encounter
the crossing of paths with my many crushes
the chance of a kind word spoken
or a moment of eye contact
but let's face it
as necessary as the whole thing is,
for the most part
school was just
a goddamn drag
and my crushes faded into the past
not knowing they were my crushes
and if I was anyone else's crush
I faded away
not knowing it either.
* * *
Quaint
Anybody can be amazing once
Anybody can hit a single home run
Or throw one knockout punch
Anybody can bust their ass
and lead the pack for one single day.
But the challenge comes the next morning
when you have to get up
and the pack is ready to go again.
The challenge comes after that single great success
and you’re told
“Great shot, kid. Do it again.”
It’s much harder to be consistent.
It’s much harder to get up every single day and tell yourself,
time to do it again.
No one ever made it off of
one great shot or one great day.
You only ever make it
if you’re willing to do your best
again and again
and again
and again.
* * *
