. . . to be read lightly, almost under one's breath, except for the exclamations of observation. I imagine it (i dreamed it) to the rhythyms of a Maracatu samba but slower and more panoramic in flow. If read aloud it has the desired effect of turning one blue in the face.
Deep in the depths of a not so shallow reef,
where the blue mangos sway
in the current to the tune
of the undulating rhythms from afar
live the blue Menagaddi fish,
the indigo members
of the bluely lit reef.
The fish have no teeth!
The fish have no teeth!
Only blue tinged gums
to gum
the succulent flesh
of the underwater mango.
(The blue mangos sway
back and forth,
without end,
in the smooth running current,
to the rhythms from afar.)
A spiralling contorsion
of circular motions
the fish swims
to
its
celebrated patch of underwater
blue, pausing only at the height of its
circuit
to gum
a piece
of the succulent flesh
of the underwater mango.
(The blue mangos sway
back and forth,
without end,
in the smooth running current,
to the rhythms from afar.)
This sudden display
Releases blue juices
spurts of diaphanous,
fragrant
blueness
tinging
the water
a purply, bilious blue.
The cloudburst attracts
more fish
to join
in the fray and folly
of the mealtime celebration
a cause for contemplation
in the passage of blue to blue.
(The fish have no teeth!
The fish have no teeth!
By the bluely lit reef!
These fish have no teeth!)
Of phytohaemocyanin and pearly oogli bodies
of Menagaddi fed blue mango.
Not
blue
if
not
fed.
Sickly, distorted, pale,
pale pink from lack of hue.
A sickly Menagaddi
ballasts limply on its side,
The blue gums erode,
the blue scales denude
not powered by indigo blue.
No blue pearly microbes to make the transition.
No blue organogensis for pigment deposition.
This is not a fish!
No raspy tongue of velvet to greet a new entrant
A sickly, slick cone, foments in the mouth,
like a dead snake
covered
in
...mucus.
The fish swims by and greets you
with a lovely blue piece of velvety quivering,
a gentle enticing wiggling of its tongue.
Tickle it.
The fish will thank you
and offer blue mango,
a flesh
far
more
succulent and tasty
than the hard-shelled
yellow cousins that, by needs of light,
live only . . .
near the surface.
Join in the fray and folly of the
feeding by the reef,
where the light from above
trickles to its last frayed ends
in the undulating current
powered. . . by the indigo rhythms . .
. . . from afar.