(Note: αστακός (astakós) is Greek for “lobster.”)
Tell me not, Ten-Feet, I am un-brined
That from the tomalley
In thy cased chest and chitin rind
To landlocked farms I fly.
A new amuse-bouche takes thy place,
The first sloe in the field;
I will with greater zest embrace
A gourd, an orange, peeled.
This vegan tendency is such
As you too shall adore;
Thou, boiled alive, I could not touch−
I love my Conscience more.
