The Octopus.

You, the octopus.
You with the broken teeth, with
your closed tight jaws of regret.
You, the monster who has only
a past and a future,
because your present is unaccounted for.
You, the octopus,
with your tangled paws of inadequacy.
You, the sea demon
with the rage they speak of in legends.
With the sour beak of hunger and
the slow movements of an untold weight.
You, the octopus.
Terrifying because that is all
they have ever made of you.
A sadistic beast of you,
an unfeeling mass of sinew,
a thoughtless pulpy death machine.
You, the octopus,
you remain silent.