In this issue, The staff of the Gift Electroniqué explore the deep blue mysteries of what covers 70% of our planet. No, not bad poetry. We mean the ocean blue. So, put on the snorkel of soliloquy and dip a toe into our lukewarm offerings.
I was asleep and dreaming
About giant squids eating my eyeballs,
Chomping on my belly
And it wasn't so very bad.
Still, I asked if they would stop.
Bob and me was workin'
Down at about 20,000 leagues
When we sees this hideous monster
And Bob wets hisself.
The cold black sea
Deep as the grave
Black as the spade
Can make you disappear without a trace
Just like it does
The used oil from my Toyota
That I dump into the bay.
Two atmospheres under the sea
and my joints are filling with air.
I'm thinking about writing a book
about a whale, says Herman.
Would you read a book like that? He asks.
Depends on the whale, I guess, I says.
How are the men? My father writes to me
On my ship. How are the men?
The men are fine, I write back. They are
planning a mutiny against me
Which sounds like fun,
But they won't let me help.
The ocean is a wondrous world
filled with wonder and mystery
and tuna fish. Oh! for some mayonnaise!