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.