The Zookeeper

A quadruplet of jellyfishes deviously loomed,
with their tentacles sneaking vine-like round a tree,
squirming, hissing and pissing scheduled poison
into the wrinkle of Jim's withering arm.
"Crucified by jellyfish?!" screamed Jim,
yet the words refused to pave their way through exhausted lips.

"Now are you in any pain?"

Pain? Pain?
"Are you a zookeeper? An executioner?"
Jim rightfully accused.

The jellyfish hadn't liked the idea;
the executioner hadn't liked the idea.

"I'm just going to give you some Potassium;"

No! Don't you dare touch!
But Jim could not leave nor flee;
"Since when did jellyfish have such a strong grip?"
he surmised; his arms wouldn't bulge.

"Now what's the matter, Buddy?"

What's the matter? There is a team of jellyfish floating above me!

"Now what's the matter, Buddy?"

A fire ignited underneath Jim's wrinkle--
it spread through the toes and caused his stomach to billow;
he felt his toes fluctuate and the back of his hand began to skip;
he felt his forehead leak, his lips evaporate.

The jellyfish suddenly swam away with Jim.
"I didn't know I could swim here," thought Jim.
A mermaid floundered to his side and sweetly cooed:
"Now what's the matter, Buddy?"
And Jim was surprised to find his lip on his stomach.

The sea water must have doused the arm,
thought Jim. "Oh, nothing's wrong Ariel."
"Nothing, nothing's wrong."
The mermaid blew him a kiss and winked.

"Atta boy."

Retrospect

'tacked the cold with a photo album
I pulled up to my shoulders
(open-faced and spine-up)
as I curled on my side
(like the teethy promises of the smiles enclosed).
Etherised on my bed, injected with nostalgia.