This is a poetry exercise, write down what comes
into your mind....Lobster. What the Hell?
A red crustacean on a bed of lettuce with lemon
and mayonnaise sauce sprinkled with parsley.
Can one taste agony?
Dipped alive in boiling water, unheard screams,
a long tool to retrieve, white meat from claws.
Am I a surgeon now?
The lobster catcher is not guilty of anything, he
just catches and sells them, but cannot afford to
eat them....He has a pet lobster at home, it is sort
of brown and lives in a tank, he calls it Charlie but it
says nothing to him, this trader of food for the rich.
