Octopus collects rocks on the sea floor;
builds a fortress for its home.

Octopus in a restaurant kitchen;
two tentacles cut, head and body put aside.
Small pieces of tentacle served,
squirming,
on a silver-rimmed plate.

In the sea, octopus changes the colour of its skin
to escape a shark,
propels forward like a jet,
leaves behind ink.

White tablecloths, chandeliers,
the octopus is eaten
alive;
tentacles cut over conversation.

Octopus follows a trawler full of thrashing fish;
tangled in the net,
the octopus is trapped.

Octopus in the kitchen, head and body
put aside;
more tentacles cut, ready for another order.
But there are none.

So it waits, limbless.