By Keertan Somasundaram
Edited by Liam Mason and Alloe Mak

Preface

What follows is a semi-extensive guide to the deep-sea creature Lophiiformes, more commonly known as The Anglerfish. It is one of nature’s most dashing, beautiful, cruel, and narcissistic creatures. You can’t escape The Anglerfish. You won’t be able to comprehend it either. This guide is a tale told many times before through paper and print, wind and grass, touch and spittle, but more prominently through the sea and its inhabitants. You can’t escape The Anglerfish. At the least, it will leave you in a state conjured only when mixing euphoria and a languish being. At its greatest might, The Anglerfish will leave you dead. 

Either way, to be able to handle such a creature is a feat not meant for most—but since you’re reading this, you are surely about to venture into a murky place illuminated by nothing more than the words you read here. The deep sea is not for everyone, although everyone will eventually find themselves collapsed in a bed of algae while their lungs soak. You can’t avoid it, just as you can’t avoid the creature that will be snacking on your remains. Be wary of The Anglerfish.

Ⅰ. Introduction

The Ocean will prod you,
rile you up, turn you on,
tempt you, but you’ll know
The Anglerfish
when it approaches.
It always will.

However,
it may appear
in disguises—
ones it assumes
or creates for itself,
and some you
will undoubtedly project.
But you’ll know
The Anglerfish
divulged from it’s
skin.

Is it a person, a tale
a city,
a town?
It conceals
as any and all,
windows, movements
emotions.
Is it a look, a face,
a dress,
a gown?

The water
is stationary,
in a way it’s
entirely unsure
if it could be called
a pool, lake,
or ocean.
Lost,
we swim.

Ⅱ. Escas

Before the light, there
was nothing but
freezing blood and
chattering teeth and
lonely people
for all to see.

The Anglerfish has an Esca,
or a lantern, that it uses
to attract prey like
a lure of sorts.

You may know of
its light, its warmth,
its touch,
but it won’t
illuminate you.

Libraries and
Kant and journals
and Freud give
you sparks,
but it won’t
illuminate you.

Unravel your
tangled net, ready
your harpoon,
be hasty when
the lure enters
your sight.

The lure brings
danger, turn the
other way says
your mind tainted
by ways of
the land.

The lure brings
danger, but it
will be your
only light.

So unravel your
tangled net, ready
your harpoon,
but those won’t
illuminate you.

Brace for the
teeth, the evil,
for drowning,
brace so as
not to blunder.

Too slow,
too late,
The Anglerfish
takes its leave
lest you pray
for another
fate.

Ⅲ. Teeth

Sink the
teeth into my
veins, organs, skin,
let there open a
crevice of crimson
and pleasure wherein
it can swim.

The Anglerfish has teeth
that can retract into themselves
so as to invite objects
that cannot escape when
the teeth return.

The city
skyline and
crooked teeth and
brown eyes latch and
snare and
catch like traps and
bare their fangs
and don’t let
you or me go.

Coil around my
body like
The Serpent
who damned us,
as you leave, taint
me with your venom.

Plug the crevice
with dirt,
a poem, or another tooth,
blood spurts out–
it won’t fit.

A doctor
or a priest won’t
diagnose, so search
under footprints
tread long ago.

The wounds run
deep now, I look for
the same teeth
so I return;

To the city, to you,
to the water, to this,
in hopes of finding
The Anglerfish.

Ⅳ. Mating 

Attach to me,
the approximation, the face,
the words,
and promise
you won’t ever
leave.

Leave and you’ll
find me.

The Anglerfish
exhibit a sort of
symbiosis when
mating. They almost
absorb into one,
although, one remains
more parasitic.

There is no me
or I
or you
or we.

i call out
and hear a
faint echo
it’s part of
whatever this is
tried and
true too late
to flush out

Leave and you’ll
find pieces
and parts
and scraps
and bacteria
and me
and you
or at least
what’s left.

You drown on
a bed of coral
and my lungs
are pierced by
an uncanny
drowsiness.

Desperation,
despair,
and asphixiation—
as the mirror
lay on my chest.

If I ask
it to leave,
I know it will
respect my wish.

If I ask
it to leave,
it’s still a part
of me,
that dangerous,
cunning,
Anglerfish.

Conclusion

The Anglerfish is a dashing, beautiful, cruel, and narcissistic creature. Your main goal, not if, but when you encounter one should be simple—don’t allow it to become ephemeral. You can find The Anglerfish anywhere, whether that be in between concrete landings of trash heaps, winding green hills filled with pollen, opera written centuries ago, blue eyes that detain the sea, or a dream so vivid you can taste its fruit.  Don’t try to hide from it, since there are only a few you can encounter in your brief life. The Anglerfish is cruel, yes, but in your encounters with the creature you’ll discover its beauty. Walk through it languorously so as to savour every scale, tooth, and gut. Know that you will never encounter this specific creature again because each one is so variegated that you will know it isn’t the same. 

Your adventures in the deep sea may ultimately lead to your untimely demise due to Giant Squids, Great White Sharks, or a hungry school of Piranhas. Let not The Anglerfish quell your existence like them—live. Live through every scale, tooth, and gut; at the end of it all, say a simple goodbye. And while you wait for what seems like an eternity, just know: you can’t escape The Anglerfish.