This poem is about having creative energies that are not honored and rewarded in our culture. Such creative energies may have difficulty finding channels to flow freely. This poem employs a magnificently mixed metaphor of an imagined Octopus’ Garden (Thank you Beatles) and the all-too-common octopus of electrical cords emanating from a single outlet familiar to those of us living in older homes not up to modern electrical codes. The ending of the poem alludes to the arising danger from such powerful creative energies surpassing the existing channels at certain moments. Status quo, look out!<\/p>\n