love
is a bridge
made out of weasels
that squirm
and seek purchase
where ever they may
it
is a bowl
of dead octopi
coated in soy sauce
and dancing
still firing nerves
no sense
just manic twitching
it
is an iron fist
in a velvet glove
that has been coated
with rusty strands
of razor wire
and malaria
yet
it sure is intoxicating
for such a bastardly thing
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
I like weasels. I like them very much. I think weasels a’squirming would make a fine bridge.
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If anyone ever asks who truly gets me, the answer is most assuredly you.
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I don’t know how I feel about this. I’ve read it three times. Undecided….
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i am okay with that. i got tired of pretty metaphors for the fickle thing and went… weird instead. i liked the visuals though.
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I liked the visuals. But. I love love. So I see it as beautiful, not ugly.
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have you ever watched a video of a dead octopus with soy sauce drizzled on it in a Japanese restaurant? it is lovely.
as are weasels. maybe not as a living bridge. I’m not making my point clear. Lol
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I have seen the octopus. And weasels are cute, yes. Perhaps I misunderstood your poem. I will read it again.
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hahahaha
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I think it was the last stanza that turns me away. The weasels are cute and soft and I like it. The octopus is entrancing. The malaria is…. uh….
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deadly if untreated?
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Ha!
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