Big, black and white lie.



The Brothers Grinn. Slicker than fish juice in a sluice.

  (Towt Wwiff)...

I'm not schizophrenic! We're all really here!

It's called "sixfishonistic" and synergistically dear.

A sort of symbiotic relationship's clear,

so says this psychotic, with fish diction in my ear.


 The din and the dolor, the depths get so scary.

I went to the doctor with hopes she could spare me.

She said," this is no case of tri-bipolarity,

all six of you fish have a twist of hilarity."


 "A laugh has to float. is all I can say",

as Namazu and O'Bloat take the ball pen away.

"We fish can embellish as well as thumbed ones any day!"

A strange wish, but, I acquiesce,... and pray for a tasteful essay...



 "Catfish, you see, come in all different sizes.

Some midges so small, they wear shrimp as disguises.

Giant black and whites, like me, are considered mythic prizes,

it's our backsides that be why the tsunami wave rises."


 Patrolling sub-surface, an unconscious sea.

Unknowing of purpose, in all honesty.

Void any great service, lest one likes what they see

in annoying, staid verses that mess with your psyche.


 Roaming, insouciant, thinking what we could be.

Owning self improvement seeming pretty good to me.

A frightening demise when we can't even agree

a mighty tide's starting to rise and not all will float free.



 At first, it just whiskers, then the cursed fin....^....,

some submersed whispers from a troubling green grin,

then, black and white skin and up bursts a chin

that attack night and daylights in, these verses we've written.


 We thank you for feeding these fish. You've immensely inflated their face.

We don't and won't be needing to wish for grins seen unaided from space.

If and when you see "the fin", don't thrash, just try holding your place,

if luck's not amok, right by, we might swim ,..SpLaSh! Oops, oh,..just not in their case.





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