by Bruce BeasleyAs the gone- translucent octopus jet-blasts into evasion, vanishing while its ink-sac spurts a cloud of defensive mucus & coagulant azure-black pigment, self-shaped octopus imago in ink, so the shark gnashes at that blobbed sepia phantom, pseudomorph that disperses into black nebulae & shreds with each shark-strike & the escaped octopus throbs beyond, see-through in the see-through water, untouched—: so, go little poem, little ink-smudge-on-fingertip & -print, mimicker & camouflage, self-getaway, cloud- scribble, write out my dissipating name on the water, emptied sac of self-illusive ink . . .
