Wednesday, September 07, 2011

of lobsters and men

In a state of revery, of suspended animation these images are invoked:
my little red bird who has passsed away
some other blue bird will come and stay

He would spend nights, angry nights awake, consumed by the lobsters' fates in the restaurant below. Eventually, he moved to avoid a divorced from his increasingly annoyed wife. They moved I should say. Animal rights versus human agitation. The lobster, unworried in his tank, unaware of the fate that awaited him, my father obsessing over the moment. Both made little sense. no sense boiling creatures alive really. Barbaric.

pill droppers annoy me.

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