In the age of aquarius I saw
In a tank of caged creatures
A pair of little seahorses.
They aren’t like in the movies,
You know. They’re really in love.
You can tell by their tails
Which are helpfully and carefully
Joined gently as they lead and
Follow each other around the
Little space they have to share.
They say that these horses are
Both the same. They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just two of them.
In the room outside my doctor’s
Office, I saw a birthing seahorse. In
Their tail, now only a pair of arms and
A warm, sleeping lap, a baby cradle
Or a breast made of prehensile love,
Was a baby horse, gasping while
Its other one was finding out their
Role. In the cubic inches of a
Cage, it would be so simple.
They say that these horses are
Both the same. They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just one of them.
© Lewis Bosworth, 7/2018, revised
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
In the age of aquarius I saw
In a tank of caged creatures
A pair of little seahorses.
They aren’t like in the movies,
You know. They’re really in love.
You can tell by their tails
Which are helpfully and carefully
Joined gently as they lead and
Follow each other around the
Little space they have to share.
They say that these horses are
Both the same. They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just two of them.
In the room outside my doctor’s
Office, I saw a birthing seahorse. In
Their tail, now only a pair of arms and
A warm, sleeping lap, a baby cradle
Or a breast made of prehensile love,
Was a baby horse, gasping while
Its other one was finding out their
Role. In the cubic inches of a
Cage, it would be so simple.
They say that these horses are
Both the same. They’re male or
Female or female or male or
Maybe even just one of them.
© Lewis Bosworth, 7/2018, revised
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