The World is my Lobster
My appetite for lobster knows no bounds!
The tail! Perfect al dente…..Aah! I bite
Deep into muscle gleaming silvery white
And chew. A stubborn carapace surrounds
The prize, but with my tools of tempered steel
I crush and crack the armour, discard head
And telson first, then scour the cheliped.
I suck the legs, breathe in the ocean’s smell.
Replete, I see the ruins on my plate:
The shattered shell, the blue digestive tract,
The claws that ripped, now broken and ransacked,
And pause to contemplate the lobster’s fate.
A victim? Maybe, but the meat was mine,
That’s how I calculate the bottom line.