Mola Mola

Photo Credit: Hiroya Minakuchi, Nat Geo: https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/fish/o/ocean-sunfish/

Because we can’t, we refuse

to settle for a single ‘Mola’

and why would we?

Swim on, new hotness! The ocean

nouveau; up and coming genealogy

of bony fish sure to make waves.

Something Ralph McQuarrie would

proudly straddle, all classic bulk and

geometric angles.

Born to shine, you effortlessly attain

cosmic significance; sunfish, pesce luna

in a shaft of godray turning on its side

like an hot, wet pelagic pancake. Fucking

Christ, you can’t put a price on that.

Their cartilage predates the nasdaq,

predates cartoon mascots whispering

“Turn off your carbon monoxide detectors,

children.” See them skim the surface

like a stone,

an unfinished plinth hurtling

lackadaisical, its vectors playing out

over unaccounted decades.

“Hey, hey, hey…. hey”

lips stoically puckered

a fin rolls over the surf

like a well-oiled, lovingly maintained

pizza cutter. Imagine the jaws theme

but on a less overtly threatening instrument.

A kazoo, bongos, rhythmic knee-slapping.

The Mola Mola approaches and frankly

we should settle for nothing less.