Langoustine Garnish
It sprawled across my food:
Pinkish, churlish and pincers clutching
At my grilled haddock,
On fennel
And I considered it then appraised it, as red tentacles spewed.
I turned it onto its back:
Ghoulish, caddish and tail curling
At my Pernod jus,
On fennel
And I shivered then I sickened, as skeletal limbs lay slack.
I ignored it at the edge of my plate:
Squeamish, childish and appetite waning
At its long grippers,
On fennel
And I manipulated them then danced them, as tentatively I ate.
It watched from soft, bulbous eyes:
Reddish, garish and apparently spying
At its nauseous adversary
On fennel
And I scraped irises then scored irises, as surgery I advised…
Pete Ray
It was on my plate.
It was quite spooky but eye surgery was necessary.
Evil creature...
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