ODE TO A LOBSTER
Stop squirming, noble lobster,
although the water churns,
I'm told on good authority
you will not feel the burns
but magically, as you submerge,
without an ounce of pain,
your consciousness will pass away,
your shells and meat remain.
Philosophers pontificate
and theologians sputter,
but as for you, the afterlife
means being dipped in butter.
Last edited by Roger Slater; 05-27-2011 at 05:06 PM.
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