POEM TITLE
the blackness on sea will do...
POEM
blackness, that i can digest...
persons, places, things...
the quality of being in the pot...being black is a freedom...black color, is a glory to the oceans...darkness... can be a friend...
Moral darkness is not known to a lobster's bisque...atrocity or conformity...in the kitchen...enormity in the flavor profile...wickedness is cast in the shadows of laughter...
the quality or quantity of lobster...what if we offer twain???state of being... the sea brings us its lovelies...connected as the farm and the farmer...world ocean, we are the world...simply the ocean, is the bearer of lobster news...in the body of salty water, that we still add salt to the pot...that covers approximately all of the inner hidden tongue...71 percent of the earth's surface is the lobster's haven perhaps...the word sea is sounding like see...and has important roles in the lustful eyes of seafood chefs...
lobsters are a family, apart of our tradition as well...large marine crustaceans... waiting for you at this station...lobsters have long bodies, accompanied by bread and ale...with muscular tails, and butter reservoirs as deep as full shallow wells... live in crevices for me, and you...burrows on the seafloor... like divers seeking treasure...three of their five pairs of legs have claws... the better for me to eat you with...(my lobster daughter)pots in pubs...any of various filled with grub...commercial containers made of metal, for the making of seafood love, with our clients and friends to meddle...WHAT a container and its contents, solely for the village on the "firth of forth"...a pot of stew, an open mouth flask of brew...
the blackness on sea will do...