by Jake Murel
Maine Lobster Festival, August 2-6, 2023 |
Click, clack, clock, go calling claws
Of arthropods in steel-cage cells,
Clambering en masse to escape the maw
Boiling broth, bubbling hell.
Snap, snip, clip, cameras click,
Twice-captured crustaceans, cowering each
Jostled and jumping, tossing kicks
Against suffering steam in seething screech.
Crack, crick, creek, shells break
With silent shrieks in summer sun
As tourists taste torture that makes
Lobster death-camp fun.
Jake Murel is a private individual and, as such, does not enjoy biographical statements. His own poetry has appeared in The Journal of Formal Poetry, The Lyric, and many other venues.
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