The Soul of a Sea Lion
By Morrisa Sherman
If we were pinnipeds,
We wouldn't have fingers,
Nor toes.
We wouldn't have to work away
Beneath the glowing weight
Of the fluorescent lights.
We would sun ourselves
There, on the rocks
And slap the younger ones
When they waxed too feisty.
Damn the opposable thumb!
Damn the opposable thumb!
Sea lion fin dearths, Mr. Mars!
Copyright © 1992, Morrisa Stanfield Sherman.
This work may not be reproduced in any form without the author's explicit permission
