This song is not for the shivering sleepless child
huddled in a cardboard box above a restless alley
watching a smog-orange midnight sky
through the rusted bars of a fire escape
praying no monster climbs up and tries to take her.
No, I dedicate this song to you, Architeuthis.
You have not stumbled and fumbled with words,
never trembled in the face of meaninglessness.
Let the lines of this song become tentacles.
Let them draw meaning out of you
and ever closer to my eager snapping beak.
M.J. De Angelis lives on the Lamprey River in Durham, New Hampshire and enjoys fly fishing. His pieces have appeared in Penwood Review, Third Wednesday, Sonnetwriters.com and Wild Goose Poetry Review. Other work will be appearing in Chiron Review and Lit Magazine. Although his first passion is writing poetry, he pays the bills writing software.