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Gary was a nudibranch
The apple of my eye
I bought him at the Reef Shop
For nineteen ninety five

I loved my little flatworm
He was slimy, he was blue
He'd speak to me of dreams he had
And where they'd lead him to

I told him not to worry
Or think about those things
I'd bought another nudibranch
That waited in the wings

But Gary wasn't interested
He'd better things to do
Than making baby nudibranchs
With thirty gallon views

He held me in his confidence
One dark and stormy night
When the filament of halogen
Burned out on his tank light

He'd never pleased his father
Causing him something to prove
So he'd gone and got his license
Beauty operator school!

And even though the customers
Came pouring in his shop
He felt he wasn't good enough
To ever measure up

And soon I saw my Gary
Turning angry and depressed
He started drinking gin, sleeping around,
He was a mess!

I felt really, really sorry
I felt really, really sad
It seemed like there was nothing
I could do or that I had

To make him feel much better
He was like a worn out shoe
When one day he took his life
Upon the intake filter tube


Written by Sara Fielder © Feb 2012
Amidst the vast blue planet
Of what is sea and porous flesh
The ***** rides the current
At its hunger’s great expense

When restless waters compose
suppressing their distress
With frail mouth tethered closed
The swollen being is dismissed

Lusting for substance
Demure discarded for greed
Heart and hooded nudibranch
Unfasten their jaw to feed

Opaque moon for a mouth
Siphons water like blood
Rhythmic pulsing of valves
Gaping mouth left undone

As time judges persistence
Each beat echoes the ache
The ***** too ravenous
To hinder its weary gates

Then the surface cast light
To the starving and hollow
Who proceed to ignite
With the spark of each swallow

— The End —