The waters where I swim are alga-green:
Salt-water, brackish, fresh - I like them all
As long as there are plants, for my cuisine

Consists of vegetation for which I trawl,
Browsing the canals incessantly,
Much like the land-cow, munching at a crawl.

I am the sea-cow, dugong, manatee -
I have no inclination as to billing
For these or any words. I go to sea

Merely to eat, for that's my job, god willing,
Though I have been divested of my hide
And blubber often. That was not fulfilling

At all, but clearing bottom growth in wide
Swaths and swales most surely is. I munch
And swallow, taking it all in stride -

Or stroke, rather, for I can't walk to lunch,
Having no hinder limbs of any sort.
Yet I can clear a seaway in a crunch

If left alone to exercise my forte,
Leaving behind hardly a blooming ort.