Where Now, Brown Tadpoles?

Where now 
     brown tadpoles?

Swimming in your stinking tidal pool of woe -
darkened sperm that’s spent 
   upon the thirsty ground, 
              offal of your parents’ froggy lust - 
while 
wildly you try 
        to fly 
beyond your watered womb, 
to sprout your legs 
            to leap into the waiting 
                             woods, 
but still you lie in 
all your thousands strong 
                    along the river’s flowing course, 
a waiting smorgasbord of snacks for fowl and fish
to dine on


How now 
   grown tadpoles?

Your numbers shrink before the summer’s 
               heat 
and most of you are fodder 
            in your larger 
                  neighbors’ stomachs, 
gullet goop to 
       soon be joined into the water’s 
                               way, 
while some of you, 
       o holy few!, 
will hence become en-legged 
                   pollywogs: 
cavorting, 
ingesting, 
capitulated copulating, 
            croaking in your species’ 
                              fevered gambol
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