--John Brehm
Mostly they live in the dark
underwater weed-slithering
currents and worry about
being swallowed up by their
more furious brethren.
Some of them have eyes
perched atop long thin stems
like flowers. And some
have forty or fifty arms
pocked with suction cups
to help them stick to things
and will squirt black
clouds of ink to keep
themselves concealed. Others
resemble subtropical
dottybacks or scaleless deepsea
gulper eels, with their
velvety bodies, zipper teeth,
and whip-like tails. The fearsome
dragonfish—likewise the
viperfish, hatchetfish,
and bristlemouth—all find their
corollaries in the Red Sea
of my heart. Even
the phantom glass catfish,
entirely translucent except
for its intestines,
is no stranger to my feelings.
The unforthcoming among them
behave just like shovelnose
stingrays who flop right down
in the bottom-ooze and flick
the muck up over them.
But some of them, when they
swim too near the surface,
find themselves suddenly
exalted, lifted and flying
through the air, wind-filled,
sunlight-sharpened sky
expanding around them, high
above their proper element—
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