Year of the Sea Monkey VII – Glen Armstrong

We sink into the water.

It’s the closest thing to making

love in outer space,

 

which in turn, I understand,

is the closest thing

to one of the ancient gods

 

chuckling at the divine

and ancient equivalence

of a firefly.

 

We join the jellyfish

club, and six to eight weeks later,

Aquaman arrives at our doorstep

 

with our certificate.

We value our privacy,

though I get why it strikes some people

 

odd to hear me say that.

I’m only telling you this

because we’re such good friends

 

and there’s an off chance

that you can help me figure out

if we’re the chuckle or the fly.

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