by Cynthia Li
Art by Grace Chu
Issue: Aphelion (Spring 2016)
“Oh ho! my lobster friend, why do you hang
so gloomily from fingertip today?”
The lobster on my finger bobbed and sang,
“The sky is dark, I do not want to play.”
“Oh dear, my lobster friend, why are you sad?”
I asked when skies turned blue and clear again.
Instead he scowled and snapped, the red-faced lad,
“This I am not — that you’d do well to ken.”
“Oh my, my lobster friend, why are you here?”
I looked at him who on my hand was clinched.
“I do not know,” he answered with a leer
and unforseen my fingertip he pinched.
So now my finger’s sore and still I cry:
Oh lobster on my finger, you shall fry.