Letters from a Brine Shrimp
Mark Pearce (c) 2009

I saw movement
As I pressed my face against the glass
Of this toilet you call home.

You were
Pulsing through aqua,
Propulsion mechanisms too small to appreciate
Let alone fully comprehend.

With no prehensile tail,
With no hair,
Lacking primatial features,
Still, we call you “monkeys.”

No offense, but
You looked much cuter
In the comics.

Still, I’m young and enthralled,
Captured by persistence
As you move from point A
To point C with an intent –
Indicating a degree of intelligence.

So why haven’t you written me lately?