The Lobster Tank

As we waited for our table
he came, a tender well-dressed man
with a kind smile and a well-groomed beard,
and pushed aside the glass top
and with a long combing prong
lifted the lobster from the blue-lit waters
for the cook.

"Look, sweetie," said one man, tugging
at his little girl. "Look at the lobster!"

The man paused so we could see it there,
then he placed it on a plain tray,
carried it away, pausing so the host and a waitress
could pat it on its shell, the waitress
making a sad puckering expression,
the host worried about the growing
waiting group of hungry guests.

I ate two pounds of snow crabs that night,
my wife ate a plate of coconut shrimp,
someone ate a lobster.