Goodbye, blue, blue,

blushing blue,
princess parrot fish
blue in a blue-lit tank,
here at Zoomazium, wilderness
of make-believe cypress, facsimile
strangler fig snaking, faux robin’s egg
out of which to hatch like an sapphire Cheshire flocked

in turquoise fleece, my caged
charge given a task: find a living
thing, share its shelter, food, sleep:
earn a cerulean doodad. For this she
scribbled plankton, krill, by the sea, near a lake.
Wouldn’t have noticed the heart-leaved aster,
dry, limp, if not points for knowing they ward off

evil, heal the azure ache
in my head. Most unwelcome
indigo, reluctant guest in navy
blazer circling the tank by way
of the keg, one more hug, one more sapphire
thanks. Not sure whether Eurasian or native, post-
molecular research leaving me out of the loop, dumb

as its stalks. Song sung blue,
everybody knows its 1,950 likes. Not
f-you to the sky (or Neil Diamond), but
to a dozen lifetimes belted inside an ultramarine
Chrysler (I simply had no choice). Cut it all down,
starting with Astraea’s tears, who wept when Jupiter
flooded a warring earth, turned them to asters when they fell.