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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