Of all the things that man desires,
the many things that man might wish,
I think no man but me aspires
to become a cuttlefish.
To breathe in deep to my siphuncle!
And fill the fabled cuttlebone,
to better buoy myself, and dunk all
foes in ink, and flee alone.
I'd change my colors as I needed,
and fade away from divers' sight,
and thus remaining unimpeded,
jet away in hasty flight.
And that's my dream. But though I long for
chromatophores, and blood green-blue,
if in my grasp, I'd clutch the stronger:
my tentacles would reach for you.