Submarine Sensation

                           Semenov

RUBY TUESDAY

SUBMARINE SENSATION

Oh Jellyfish! Thou haunts the deep,

And, similarly, when I sleep,

Thy tentacles enfold my brain

Wafting from thy black domain.

Some people fear the squirming snake

And hissing sounds that serpents make.

Rats that nibble human toes

Disturb some minds, when in repose.

Spiders are creatures that create

Terror as they lie in wait.

But, Jellyfish, thy tentacles

Are horrifying spectacles!

Thy sightless look appears to peer

Into the dark and spy me near!

Thy jelly blubber is nauseating

Utter revulsion in me creating!

Imagine if thy floating hairs

Should catch this swimmer unawares!

Imagine if I were entangled,

Sucked at, squeezed and even mangled!

They tell me that, in far Japan,

Jellyfish the size of man

Float in their millions in the seas

In wafty giant colonies!

Even thy watery friends, the sharks,

Don't rate the exclamation marks!

And, judging by the number here,

You'll realise I have a fear

Of jellyfish. But I never swim!

So the chance of meeting one is slim.

And thou art a pretty red.

In thy defence that can be said.

*

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REALITY CHECK

Little ducks upon a pond

Are things of which we're very fond.

'Look at their little paddling feet!

Look at the ducklings! Oh, how sweet!

See each gorgeous burnished feather!

See how they  swim along together!'

It's only when they're on a rack

That we see them as a human snack.

We see them dangling side by side,

Merely protein exemplified!

We look at them and lick our lips,

Fancying a plate of duck and chips.

Thoughts of 'ponds' are cast away

As we become predators, ducks prey.

Take a look at slices of ham,

Bacon or beef or veal or lamb.....

When they sit upon a plate

In their ultimate gravied state,

They seem removed from agony

As far away as they can be.

They seem inanimate, unfeeling,

Not victims of our double-dealing.

Animals are 'cute' and 'sweet'?

Oh no, they're just our human meat.

But when we see them in a line,

Prepared for a meal (no doubt with wine),

There is a certain reality shape

That our dulled senses can't escape.

'It was ever so' we say

And simply turn the other way.

*