in spring i’ll unfurl new growth |
exercise | learn an instrument | achieve life goals | spread my twenty-foot tentacles |
wait | what? | oh my god | why do i have tentacles |
is this | self-actualization?

i am | rolling with it | i guess in spring |
i am a squid with large moonglow eyes | and a murderous beak |
i guess in spring | i live in the abyss | with my squiddy brethren and sistren |
i guess in spring | my blood has quickened | also, it’s blue, and
copper-based | i am a little freaked out but i did say i wanted | a change

alright squids and girls | it’s spring |
and i will eat so many fish | yes | raw |
i will duel the sperm whales of the deep | i will rise at night like a spark of silver fire |
is it | the solstice already? i hadn’t noticed | i’m sorry,
but i am too busy squidding around | to have resolutions this year.

Natasha King’s poetry has appeared in Glintmoon, Lily Poetry Review, Oyster River Pages, and others. She lives in North Carolina and reserves her spare time for writing, prowling, and thinking about the ocean.