Hypothesis:
Sea-apes become poets when touched by fire.
Method:
Be born in wax.
Pool and rumble in eddies of proteins.
Eat clams.
Walk upright with volcanoes at your feet.
Count the vertebrae on your wrinkled fingers.
Observations:
Doulas draped like seals collect the wax and mould it into the shapes of the mothers’ fears (this one a farmhand, that one a pie), hold the figures beneath their larynxes as they utter secret sounds, and then let the figures loose to sink or swim as the tide chooses.
Results:
Hairy.
Limitations:
Arthropods are not a control group.
The sea does not move, or else moves too much.
The moon lunges.
Merl Fluin 