The prompt today, a two-for-Tuesday, asked for either a construction or deconstruction poem. I was recently reading about an octopus city,  so I built on that.

21.

At the bottom of a warm Australian bay, the octopuses build. The call it Octlantis, and if the reports are true, even Plato would approve. Clam and scallop shells, collected and molded into shelter. A city of cephalopods, side by side, communicating by changing colours. The how, answered with observation and collected data, articles like the one I read now. We’re nothing if not curious, all the big-brained creatures. But it’s the why that evades me, and the marine biologists too.  So long seen as the loner, do octopuses need? More than just shelter, safety —do they need each other? What if utopia is as simple as a common goal, a construction project? Linked arms, in arms, in arms.