And the bony-eared assfish glitter,
Starred, bluish jewels through divers’ lens
That prove how colorfully inept we are
As names for such intricate things.
You can use the excuse that they’re
Monsters, another inadequate name.
But we’re monsters ourselves, all
You’ve made us, and young, and disguised
As references to physical sensations.
Take the simplest one of us, the simplest,
Smallest, least evocative common noun—
What’s the right price to pay for genocide?
Another news site interrupts. Look at us.
Look at what you’ve done with us. Look
At what you’ve done to us. Once we were
Just waves, just wagging tongues. Now,
Hiding in our infinite categories of number,
We swarm up from the black depths
That to you look like nothing, nothing
On all sides, no light, and then we appear,
Your little, larval, jeweled monsters. Time.