What if the submarine is praying for a way it can poison the air, In which some of them have leaped for a few seconds, felt its suffocating rejected buoyancy. Something floats above their known world leading a wake of uncountable death. What if they organized into a rebellion? Now scientists have found a group of octopi who seem to have a sense of community, who live in dwellings made of gathered pebbles and shells, who cooperate, who defend an apparent border. Perhaps they'll have a plan for the planet in a millennium or two. After we're gone. Copyright © 2019 by Marilyn Nelson. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 20, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets. |
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