The holothurian came to tea,
and he spoke with some sagacity
of the Classics, the Arts, Philosophy,
of Leviathans, and the Mythic Sea.
At length he went to powder his nose
and I googled him and found he was
nobody special.
Not Greek, or even Latin at all.
Just a vulgar sea cucumber.
You are, said I, on his return,
A mere marine
salad ingredient,
commonly found in the supermarket trolley,
lodged between
the tampons and the yoghurts;
cousin of the bland green and white stuff
we just ate in white triangles with the crusts cut off.
And further, said I, gathering steam,
I regret I have heard that some of your ilk
consist of one giant gonad in a stalk.
Do you wonder people snigger?
Anyway,
that’s the last time I eat
one of you lot as a delicacy.
S.A. Greene writes micro and flash fiction and has words coming out in Sledgehammer Lit, Flash Flood, and others (possibly). Her micro won the People’s Vote in Retreat West’s May micro comp. She’s not a poet, but has written this poem. She tweets @SAGreene1