Comb Jelly


centered ample niche

           not bio not luminescence

scattered light, combed light

          cilia row, row, row

chemical sensory

           translucent cup

ctenophore, to carry


Quiet Blue Light


In the daytime 

        the small creatures 


    They shut     strained eyes

trying not to let the sun wake them


their     fat    bean-shaped     bodies

    hold in all that

    silent energy


Some build symmetric shelled homes for themselves

out of the sunlight


Some grow new parts

that they don’t recognize


At night when the sun cocoons 

into its sister

some of the small creatures light up


They pump literal light     blue through

swollen cytoplasm


They greet each other as stars in the water            confide in each other’s glow

What a beautiful sapphire life.    They don’t miss their friends; they have a million others close by.


They can’t feel a broken heart 

they have no organs.


I say this but I have never asked if they feel heartbreak

perhaps somewhere in those luminous coils        there is a silent message

whispered in chemical formulas

                     sunlight         chemical energy

         Luciferin + Luciferase, Morningstar + Oxygen        light


The message reads, “I miss you,” in quiet cobalt. 





Alex Vigue is a queer writer from a small town in Washington State. Alex volunteers in local schools teaching poetry to students and four of these students have had their poems on display on the local buses. Alex's chapbook, The Myth of Man, is available Floating Bridge Press. You can find him on twitter @Kingwithnoname and at