The Snake, the Lobster, and the Woman

 

 

The snake, he leaves it by the road:

Shrugging out of his skin,

Leaving it lying

Like a curled eucalyptus leaf.

 

The lobster, she eases out of it with dignity:

Days spent on one claw,

Months on a right tentacle,

Perhaps 17 days on the belly,

Until the lobsterman thinks there’s two

In the trap.