Last Supper?

Speak!  
Speak to me!
Old man of the sea.
Splayed out on that flowered plate
in child’s pose,
head bowed, claws closed,
prepared to wait,
accepting your fate
to be served up with butter,
platitudes,
and crusty bread.
Centerpiece
of a gluttonous tableau.
Jump! Crawl away!
Escape with me instead.