In the underwater tunnel of the civic aquarium
the octopus leaned his wretched head
against the glass of his turbid pool
sucking on his breathing tube, like
a severed vein
so he could live.
He asked for his ocean. He asked me,
the daughter of the powerful race.
I was standing alone like a child stands
with her entry ticket in her hand.
‘Octopus Speaking’ was previously published in Parker & Quink (Charnwood, ACT: Ginninderra Press, 2004)
Photos in collage from: CSIRO CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0) via Wikimedia Commons