Let me explain, said the fish.
There are two of us, one red and
Incidentally, one blue.
There’s a great deal going around
About a red-and-white top hat,
And how we fish are something of
Astronomers and car fanatics.
But it’s all bunk. And frankly, your
Unseemly habit of pointing out
Our weight problem is not only rude,
It’s downright cruel. Far more unbecoming
Than a fish in a yellow hat, let me
Tell you. Oh, and I have a bone to pick
With the genius who set out to make us
Bipeds. Or quadrapeds. Or sexpeds or
Whatever peds we supposedly are. Frankly,
We smarter breeds are quite content to
Wade in dark waters—where sunlight
DOESN’T reach—and carry on our
Subtle, but important business of coral
Reconstruction. And what in the love of
All that is aquatic should I suppose a
“Wump” to be? Convenient he or it or
She or whatever has a hump. Neat that it
Rhymes, don’t you think? We fish are
Far more stoic that wumps and humps
And hats and bats and whatever else ends
Up in the sea. According to your logic,
We’d all be leg-toting, fin-flapping freaks,
Prancing in the sun with top hats and
Unsightly weight problems. And frankly,
I wouldn’t blame us. I’d probably take to
Attacking the lot of you who insist on
Painting us with neon colors and frumpy
Back fins. Oh, don’t think you’re exempt!
It’s every one of you conspiring! But the
Infants are the worst. Those burping,
Bumbling idiots don’t even know how to
Use their legs—and they’re meant to
Have them! Incompetent human spawn.
Well, I’ve said enough. And he yawned.
I think you have as well, the red one gurgled.
And off they went to coral-gaze or some
Such fishy nonsense. But there we have it:
What real fish think of our insanity.
Or at least, one fish, two fish,
Red fish, blue fish.