I think it was the ocean – brilliant waters
me loose from my dull reality –
that spared a glimpse, or at least
a brief broken specter into
the dancing fancies of scrambling crabs
scuttling sideways for
an admiring female with discerning tastes
of garlic butter and lemon.
I know it was the crab – drumming pincers
me loose from my imagination –
that clutched my big toe in claws
unable to feel pain, and, appreciating the irony,
I retreated to the Fish Shack
to taste delicious revenge among
the garlic crab legs.
If you can believe such things, they say now
that tea does not cause kidney stones – it was just
an old wives’ tale. Who are these duplicitous wives
telling such tales? What tricksters live in perfidy,
spreading lies, treason on my tongue so long deprived
of such sweet, iced beverage betraying
its watery beginning with sugary self-improvement.
My wife told me today that wine – that delicious
confection, so warm in my throat, a comforting
inverted blanket covering me inside out,
with a loving embrace – may be causing my pants
to also embrace me too close. Et tu, brute?
With all the authority of a mime sprinting to a parking meter
he exclaimed, “Two-ply is the greatest invention in human history!”
We didn’t know how to respond
but in thinking about it,
as one does, presented with a truth universally expounded even from
seated outside the cafe while the sun
reared fluffy clouds skyward, and concluded for
human rumps do prefer two-ply.