The Vampire Squid From Hell

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Hell’s ninth circle,

Cocytus,

was very different from the previous eight-

marked by eternal darkness,

freezing cold,

and pervasive lonesomeness.

Denied contact,

denied comfort,

denied death,

all within are peers,

with Earth’s

worst-of-the-worst,

as even the Devil himself

shares this fate.

In the ocean,

in depths so great,

not even light reaches,

lives Vampyroteuthis Infernalis:

Vampire Squid From Hell.

Black Sheep of the family

Vampyroteuthis’ environment

Demands no siphon,

Demands no camouflage,

Demands no color,

but, nevertheless, they make due,

and use the familiar deception,

to get by.

Bright blue,

pulsing photophores,

at the top of its head,

and tips of its tentacles

bring light,

to its dreary life,

and dissuade the monsters,

lurking in the shadows,

from attack.

It wraps,

its tentacles around its body,

exposing the bristles underneath,

to keep more brave beasts at bay.

But when it’s in real trouble,

it squirts ink,

thick and glary,

alive with dazling bacteria,

and closes the glowing “eyes”

on top of its head,

to foster the misconception,

it has gotten away.

The Vampire Squid,

cares little for your perception,

because what’s in a name?

It uses the hand it’s dealt,

and finds its daily bread,

by any means necessary.

Ransomware

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With one careless,

Errant click,

The line I cast,

With which to phish,

Had gotten a bite.

I seemed to be his boss “Theresa”

But with an “e,”

At the end.

He completed his normal routine,

Without another thought,

Input his username,

Password,

Then hit “send,”

And when I felt the time right,

I reeled him in.

His company put all their eggs in this one basket,

So I took liberty,

To scramble them.

For a small fee,

I will unencrypt,

What they so graciously

Gave me,

At my own discretion.

Phishing is not a contact sport,

It is not fraught with danger,

You can lounge in your robe,

And not move from where you sit,

Still,

I wouldn’t recommend it for the faint of heart.

What webs we weave,

When we practice to deceive,

But at least there’s some money in it.

Northern Life

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Lapland has it’s ups and downs,

as static as it might seem.

Friendly people and bitter cold,

a lonely taiga with polar wildlife, plenty of fish to eat,

also the sun sometimes shines through midnight.

You take the bad with the good,

because even the blackest night,

filled with every far-away,

twinkling,

long-dead star,

can erupt with sudden energy.

Swirls of shimmering turquoise,

undulating orange ribbons,

crashing waves of purple,

meet swinging arcs of neon green,

all before disappearing,

like steam blown away from a cup of tea.

Ribbons of light,

electrify,

the air,

while pristine snow,

about your feet,

grounds you,

like white space on a canvas.

You take the good with the bad here,

just so long as you can witness all of it.

Olm

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Life in the undercurrent,

isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

If I could still see,

I’d tell you all about it.

But I’m not complaining, believe me,

I get by.

No one bothers you down here,

unless they’re really asking for it.

Lazily,

though I prefer “efficiently,”

Sliding through nooks and crannies.

I spend my time,

sidewinding,

along dark-as-night,

limestone-lined,

walls to find,

fissures filled with my friends,

hopefully I’ll be the first to find food.

Life here is slow, simple,

beautiful in its brutality,

we’re up to our necks,

in fresh,

cold water,

and little else.

I wish I could tell you more,

or give you some clues,

but you can’t see what I do.

Corrosion

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Hello old limestone sculpture,

Of an ancient, armored,

Sword-toting,

Female soldier-

Meet acid rain.

Your chiseled face,

Buffed away,

Until the once completed visage,

Looks like modeling clay.

Slowly, but surely, we return to square-1,

That marvelous, marble base,

Laid bare,

Then swiss-cheesed,

By sizzle drizzle.

Behold the disappearing monument,

Matter cannot be created,

Nor destroyed,

But that’s neither here nor there,

Until we put real effort toward conservation,

Of the curated.

Heartbleed

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A bait-and-switch,

Give and take,

Fake Out.

I gave the server,

A blank note,

She did a double-take,

And blurted all her client’s

Names out.

That was taboo,

But she never got the memo–

Maybe it was wrong of me,

To do.

It felt a touch exploitative,

Though I assure you,

A hacker never uses

Their sleight-of-hand,

Technical prowess,

And strong communication skills,

for evil,

Unless they feel like it.

Vestigial Structures

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Long ago my ancestors left the trees 

with their tailbones tucked between their legs,

and they turned out fine.

Snakes did the same

And grew out their spines,

More than I could ever hope to,

Lost some things along the way

And are still with us today.

Who needs tonsils anyway?

Consult the appendix,

All you like,

You won’t find a good reason.

“All these pieces of me,

From yesteryear,

Are still here,”

I said, getting goosebumps.

If my flaws make me human,

Then what about the leftovers,

From when I definitely wasn’t?

In doing what it takes to survive,

You cannot afford,

To go back to the drawing board,

And you can’t correct the record,

When your body is the archive.