Puffer Fish Poem by Sidi Mahtrow

If you find
a conch shell,
Discarded by the host
and others as well.
It can be used
to make music
If you know
the tricks.

Just place your lips
near the edge just so,
And gently,
gently blow.
The sound
that you create
Maybe isn't
all that great,
But if you practice
long and hard
Perhaps(?) you'll get
your just reward.

But what if you are
in the briny sea below
And still have
a desire to blow
Other fish have tried
and failed
Attempting to play
a musical scale.

Silence is all that
from the shell emerges
When attempting pleasant sounds
or even dirges.
And yet, there is an exception
of which I write
Which is about a fish
that played to other's delight.

There in the
watery deep
Was a skinny fish
known as "Bo Peep"
Who blew on
the shell to call
Those to her;
large and small.

When she puffed up
and blew away
Bubbles went right and left
and every way
And if you are
a fan of music
You'd have to say,
"Now that's a slick-trick."

The fish thought she was
Louie, reborn
Tooting just the way
he played the horn
And when she finished
her special piece
She bowed and smiled
at the other fish.

Her fame
widely grew
As it was known
how sweet she blew.
Playing all day
and through the night
She loved the sounds
that brought delight.

Alas, she discovered
much too late
That blowing a horn
has a special fate.
For when she looked
in the mirror clear
There was evidence
of displacement there.
Her lips and all that she
so proudly displayed,
Her cheeks and body
had expanded as she played.

With time others
learned her musical ways
And were miss-shappened
to their dismay
But what happened to her?
I cannot say,
As throughout the gulf waters,
she did play.
And her fate
is as yet unknown
Some saying she's
to better places gone.
Yet all that remains
to prove the tale
Is the body of the fish -
head to tail.

So if you happen to find
at the seaside a puffer fish
You will know that perhaps when she died,
she had her final wish.
To play an Armstrong,
jazzy tune
(But when puffed up,
died all too soon.)