You’re a crab - you can't crawl or scuttle
on your legs and grasping pincers
out of the bucket full of hot water
loosening the shells and killing
you gently: your temperament
is barely believable: you clasp others
tightly to yourself in the surging crowd
of crabs lying in wait for their death.
You think I’m a crab, but never am I:
see, I’m boundless. I have no broad flat shell,
antennae, and five pairs of legs. You do.
I don’t scavenge through slurry.
We eat respect and conviction.
We’re not bound by lies and deception.
My cronies and I can take wing anytime.
We are eagles: we wrangle, we put
others forward, and we cut
and run together.Bye crabby!
I hope you put up with the warmth of death.
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