On Friday night, Andy made me write this poem. I’d told him that I wanted to start writing poems on demand and he said, write one now. Um, okay. He gave me a topic and then went off to pick a lock while I wrote. Then he made me stand up in the living room and read it aloud. What a great boyfriend, no?
Lobsters Live Forever
Lobsters are black
or green
gliding on the bottom
of the ocean
What do they see in the murk?
As years go by they grow
longer and fatter and blacker
They cease to glide and instead
stomp slowly across the ocean
floor
they bang their claws, usually
one side harder than the other,
to create a rhythm
that gets louder every year, a rhythm
that affects tides
capsizes boats
destroys sandcastles
Even the ocean
only has room for a certain
number of giant
stomping lobsters
When they are large enough to reach the pole, north
or south, they converge and
the clashing of claws begins,
shakes the ice
cracks glaciers
causes fear and trembling in
the undersea world
In their battle they
surge upwards and finally, at last
for the first time,
break the surface
The glittering ice
surrounds them and cracks
the black shells into
beautiful shards to
checkerboard the snow.