Julian Cheng // THE GIANT SQUID

A sea of calm, an endless wall of blue,

Getting darker at the bottom in a gradual hue.

The sun’s rays reach out towards the darkness below,

Where black hums its solemn song of silence.


Piercing swords of white

Embed themselves within the ocean,

And otherwise, it is blue,

The wet desert devoid of activity,

Nothing moves, only the sun’s rays and

The restless ocean.


And suddenly, yet slowly, but still surprising,

A sword of darkness rises out from the deep,

Writhing and firm, it snakes upwards,

Climbing the rungs of the ocean.


Another sword, and then another,

And another!

Until there are 8 of them, waving in the blue,

Saying hello and goodbye

In a hypnotizing yet insidious dance.


Perhaps there is no creature more perplexing than the squid,

Because we must ask (is it a kid?), to whom is it waving?

Its prey perhaps, or maybe a friend?

We’ll never know, just see the tentacles, armed with suction cups,

A long hive with its circular beecombs.


A massive head, with a shocked eye,

Looks to you with its pupil, darting past you, then seeing through you.

Despite its size, it lives in perpetual shock.


The sea behemoth brandishes his swords, waving them innocently,

like a child with a fan,

Before the eye can blink.

An exploding capsule of darkness stains the water,

Darkness drawn straight from the black of the deep,

Masking the pristine blue with an opaque, malignant cloud of smoke.

When the underwater thundercloud returns to the depths…


So has the squid.

At least he remembered to wave goodbye … or was he waving hello?