The Lobster Sees All

Crustacean eyes glared at me as I dropped the fruit,
This wasn’t the dinner I would have chosen,
It was supposed to be my celebration,
Instead, once again he’d made it all about him,
And now the inedible lobster was judging me.

I’d have preferred simple,
Perhaps a crepe or some soup,
A good wine and a walk on the beach.
But here we were, a dining room circus,
Full of noise, heat, chatter, and piled plates toppling,
Chaos ruling.

There’s only so much richness you can take,
Before it sits lumpen within you,
Clogging your life force.
You begin to crave steamed green vegetables,
And the energy to run free.

Turning a grape between my fingers,
I watch the tumbling ensuing.
The rising decibels grating,
Overheated jowls flushed and wobbling,
The fruit basket incident unnoticed.

I have become invisible to all but the lobster.

Pressing too hard the grape explodes.
Juice drips from my fingers like blood,
A taste of sweetness splatters the corner of my mouth,
My tongue darts to dab it.

The Lobster Sees All

Finally, resolute, I rise.
Lifting a bottle from the sideboard as I pass,
I escape.