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The Octopus Tango

Poet : Moe Phillips

Narration : Namakula Nasejje Musoke

Audio : Ian Phillips

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Featured On the dirigible Balloon


One of the first poems I wrote when I began this venture into the land of rhyme and left my reason at the door. Oh, to tango with a fired-up cephalopod. A word I wanted to get into the poem but it never fit. I can picture this tango hall very clearly and Namakula added her usual flair to the mad dance with “..the cave walls DRIP!” as indeed I bet they do. I did research on the creatures and the tango. A lesson I took in the Argentine long ago did not exactly stick. The music change is my favorite part of the track.

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Down in the depths on the ocean floor

lies an old sea cave with a wooden door.

This cold and cavernous, watery hall

Is home to The Octopus Tango Ball.


Hidden away in this abysmal deep,

mollusks master their “Barada Sweep”!

In the dim, dank hall, they take their places,

tentacles tangle in tango embraces.


A dim chandelier from a sunken ship 

sways in the waves as the cave walls drip.

The maestro signals: the dance must begin!

The eight-legged partners start to spin.


A scarlet octopus stamps her heels.

Her blue-ringed partner slithers and kneels.

She dangles a ruby rose in her beak

brushes its thorn against his cheek.


Their colors change as they swirl and slink.

Not spilling so much as a drop of ink.

Those boneless bodies never go slack

As they do the “Ocho”, forward and back.


Round suckers pucker with every move

As the musicians play a Tango groove.

In murky waters, the dance marches on

At the Octopus Tango Marathon.

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