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. |
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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. |
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Two atmospheres under the sea and my joints are filling with air. |
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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. |  |
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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!
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