They shoot seahorses, don’t they? J.R. Walsh

 

Everybody knows about seahorses, right?
Riding ocean waves & swirl-dancing
eye to eye, spine to spine, maypole tails
signing their declaration of codependence
with a flourish so feminist & monogamous.
Not like those ducks with their gang bangs.
Upon completion of this dance marathon,
brooding males brace their brood pouches
while she shoots & shoots & shoots
but no one’s ever ready for 1500 eggs.
For you, for small fry, I’d endure that hell.
The fat one’s taken, gals, so hold your tails.
Love, egg me from the rooftops to the sea.

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