And since it's expressly allowable under the fair use policy stated at the top of the page, I'll go ahead and post the poem here too, for convenience.
THE SEA ANEMONE
She never found out how her name had gotten entered,
But she had won a free sex change.
Full of vague dissatisfactions she'd never really acknowledged
She thought she'd at least check it out.
The shop was one of those places you read about in old books
That hint of things beyond our rational world.
And when she wasn't sure about taking the obvious type of sex-change
They handed her a 200-page catalog.
She finally decided to put in a sea anemone.
When she returned to the singles-bar scene
Reactions were, you might say,
Many a Casanova followed her home,
Interested in only one thing
And that one thing
Was not a sea anemone.
More than one had run screaming into the night.
She got quite adept at finding out which insane asylum
To deliver the left-behind clothing to.
Others, made of sterner stuff,
Plunged ahead anyway
But soon learned that sea anemone tentacles
Have little stingers, like jellyfish,
For hauling in prey.
And if that didn't stop them
Their manhood would go numb
Until they couldn't be sure
It hadn't already been digested.
Since she swung both ways
She brought home some singles-bar women.
"Can't do much with that," they'd say
And take their leave.
Then through the grapevine
She began to hear of other anemone people.
They'd lie together in the night
Feeding each other sardines down there
And thrilling to a sensation
Others had no words for.
But even this lacked something.
She drifted away from the singles bars
And began putting more of herself
Into other parts of her life.
Then once in a great while
She'd meet someone special,
Sometimes man, sometimes woman,
Or sometimes someone with another anemone
Or flowers or something.
Exactly what didn't seem to matter.
"Can't do much with that," they'd say,
Looking between her legs,
But then they'd find plenty of possibilities
With the rest of her
And with the rest of themselves.
These were the ones she treasured.
They soon learned how that part of her liked sardines
And how other parts of her liked other physical pleasures.
But they also knew that the most important parts
Were not between the legs,
But between the ears
And in the heart.
Tom Digby firstname.lastname@example.org
written Feb 27, 1995 23:20
edited Mar 1, 1995 22:05