Afraid the last crustacean
Would perish without me,
I ate a lobster

I did not do the executing myself
Hammer stroke? Boiling?
Numbing cold?

Why should I choose to kill?
I paid a restaurant chain
To perform this messy business.

Lobster Palace: all smiles
Hiding process from pleasure
Life conveyed into food.

If Red Lobsters shriek
On their wood grill
Who hears the suffering under music?

Who listens to their last goodbyes--
Their gasping breath
Their last farewells?

Will they die before their time:
Compliant bodies caught
In an an endless conveyor line?

I recall lobster friends from childhood
Creeping dolls, wet and sluggish
Harmless with pegged claws

They won't notice, won't ask
But I'll build a home for them
Beneath this dish towel. See?

Someone grabs them from my hands
Spills them into the hot pot
Where subjects become objects

Piping hot in scarlet shells
They are served and I am bibbed
We cannot recognize each other.

Desire has made me savage
Now as then, I devour old friends
Heart hardened with pleasure

Exploring their insides like a lover
Sucking the tail, belly... buttery
I take what I want and smile.

One night they'll come for me
All the lobsters I ever ate
Now, creeping into my dreams

Crawling like giant roaches
From kitchen door to bathroom
They march onwards, single file

Up, up, over into the bathtub
If I should wake for my hot shower
They will all be there waiting.