There is something to this
being wrapped up in a fish.
Brain is a pistachio clawed
By a crab that crawled.

My eyes are oyster pearls
In the dark or presenters
Of something valuable
Resting under the spell

I’m a lobster that keeps trucking
There’s no mountain stopping.
Even if you get me boiling red
I’m a lobster looking ahead.

In the ocean thinking I’m free
Til I see water surrounding me
Anywhere wherever I go
I keep sinking in slow mo.